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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209578">sleeping in the shadow of an other self</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonwal/pseuds/nonwal'>nonwal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - the M9 successfully make and execute a plan, Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Memory Alteration, Pining, Resurrection, Separation Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, exploring the nature of guilt and trauma via philosophical nonsense, morality crisis: speedrun edition, offscreen grave robbery, offscreen toppling of corrupt institutions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:36:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonwal/pseuds/nonwal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls. </p><p>(In which Essek is resurrected by the Mighty Nein and framed for innocence.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beauregard Lionett &amp; Essek Thelyss, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein &amp; Essek Thelyss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1210</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. That's a lot to unpack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set in the nebulous future when the party hits level 13. </p><p>In this chapter: Essek wakes up from a really bad nap and has a bath.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Essek wakes up surrounded by friends.</p><p>This is pleasant for the first ten seconds or so. He's disoriented, confused, weak, but above him is Caduceus' lopsided grin. “Hey there.”</p><p>“Holy fuck. For a second I thought that wasn't gonna work.”</p><p>“I know, right? Welcome back, Essek!”</p><p>“Ja, welcome back. It is good to see you again.”</p><p>It is at this point that he remembers that <em> he wasn't expecting to wake up. </em>He lurches upright, or at least attempts to. It ends up being more of an uncoordinated flop sideways, but Fjord seems to get what he was trying to do and props him up. “Steady there.”</p><p>He's in their house. Why is he in their house? Why is he<em> alive </em> and in their house?</p><p>“Essek?” Jester asks, concern creased between her brows. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I'm alive,” he croaks.</p><p>“Yeah, man. You're fucking welcome.”</p><p>“I was <em> executed. </em> What are you <em> doing?” </em> He can't breathe right. He shouldn't <em> be </em> breathing anymore. They are all in—</p><p>“None of us are currently in any danger, nor are you,” Caleb says. “We are in a copy of the Xhorhaus, in a demiplane whose entrance currently resides in Nicodranas. No one knows that your body is missing. We have some time to finesse this.”</p><p>“Oh.” Yasha pats him on the back while he focuses on slowing down his breathing, with an awkward <em> there, there </em> for good measure.</p><p>“We can talk about stuff after dinner, if you want? And while we get that ready, how do you feel about a bubble bath?” Jester suggests. “The hot tub is extra nice here and you kind of smell worse than Caleb did.”</p><p>“I’ve never understood that joke,” Essek says, reflexively casting Prestidigitation on himself. Then he stares at his hands, because he just <em>cast a spell.</em> His hands are fine. Not even scarred. He flexes his fingers, casts it again just to be sure, a third time just because he can—</p><p>Caleb gently takes one of his hands away, squeezes it slightly. “Maybe you would still like a bath? And some food, and then we can deal with everything else.”</p><p>“Ah. Sure. Yes.”</p><p>“You’d better not fall over and drown in there,” Veth says from…somewhere behind an armchair?</p><p>“I can cast Water Breathing on him,” Fjord suggests.</p><p>“Ew, then he would be breathing <em> soap. </em> Someone should probably stay in there so he doesn’t <em> die </em> again, probably.”</p><p>“I'm pretty sure he'll be fine—”</p><p>“No, Jester has a point, look at him. He's even weaker than you...were,” Veth adds when Fjord whips around to glare in the general direction of her voice. “Someone should be there to fish him out if he falls over. Caleb, why don't—”</p><p>“How about Beau stays in the room?” Essek suggests before she can get any further. “No offense, but Caleb isn't, ah...”</p><p>“Completely uninterested in seeing your junk?” Beau asks. “Because yeah, no thanks.”</p><p>
  <em> “Athletic.” </em>
</p><p>“No, that is fair. We don't need two drowned wizards, ja?”</p><p>Some of the others are assigned with finding better clothes for Essek, as his current garb is in tatters, and Beau leads him to the new and improved hot tub. It’s not <em> terribly </em> different, just larger and heated via magic, but it’s nice to have visual confirmation that they aren’t actually in the original house.</p><p>Beau unscrews a jar, sniffs it, then tosses the entire thing into the tub before going over to the stool in the corner, sitting with her back to him.</p><p>“So why did you actually want me here?” she asks as Essek fumbles with the surviving buttons on his shirt. “You can float, I assume you can get in and out of a tub.”</p><p>“Am I that transparent?”</p><p>“Yeah. Answer the question, dude.”</p><p>“...Because you'll answer mine without being too kind.”</p><p>“Okay, wow. That's a lot to unpack.”</p><p>“And we aren't going to do that right now.”</p><p>“Sure, whatever. Are you in the water yet?”</p><p>Whatever shred of pride he has left says that he is perfectly capable of getting into a hot tub unassisted by magic, but reason says that last bit of pride will die a painful death if he happens to be wrong. He sighs, and lifts gently into the air before carefully submerging himself in the swirling mass of foam that has formed on the surface. “Yes.”</p><p>“Right,” Beau says, spinning around to face him. “So. Questions?”</p><p>“Why bring me back?”</p><p>“Cool, starting off with the easy ones. I mean, we put it to a vote, and everyone’s reasoning was probably a little different. But you’re our friend. You know that, right?”</p><p>“Yes. I just didn't think that extended quite as far as...how <em> did </em>you get away with this, actually? There would be guards and an Alarm. You were being watched.”</p><p>“Yeah, we all sat around pretending that Caleb was in the Xhorhaus with us while he dug a tunnel under your grave and then stuck your gross fucking corpse into one of his little amber bits. We practiced in here just to make sure it would work. I guess when someone scries and he's in the picture he's just kinda...invisible, and you can't hear him, but everyone else is still obviously interacting with something.”</p><p>“Yes. It's been a minor cause of concern before. There were spies sent in person, the first few weeks, but they gave up on that eventually.”</p><p>She shrugs. “We kinda assumed. And eventually Fjord was able to see invisible stuff, so that made it easier to tell when we were being watched.”</p><p>“Hm.” He ducks his head under the water for a moment, combing his fingers through the tangled mess that is his hair. Beau is examining her fingernails when he comes back up.</p><p>“The green bar is regular soap, the yellow bar and the weird clear goop are both shampoo, the bluish one is some kinda conditioner thing,” she says. “Jester and Caduceus picked them out.”</p><p>“Thank you. How long was I, ah...?”</p><p>“Two weeks. Caduceus wasn’t comfortable with waiting longer than that. You're lucky he isn't squeamish, because you were super gross half an hour ago and he had to fucking <em> touch </em>you.”</p><p>Essek focuses on uncorking the shampoo bottle and generally not thinking about the previous state of his <em> corpse. </em> “Did you have any idea of how to prevent this plot from being discovered? Or will I be staying in this mansion indefinitely?”</p><p>“Ehh. We threw around a couple ideas. Most of them are kinda shitty, but we can get to that when everyone meets back up and see if you like any of them.”</p><p>“Of course.” He spends the rest of his time bathing in silence. Being suspended in water is similar to levitating—gentler, perhaps, but close enough. Roots still sway gently overhead, and he can hear the indistinct sound of voices somewhere in the house. If he focuses he can mostly make out who is talking by pitch and intonation. Closer is the sound of Beau’s breathing, deep and even. He’s quietly glad she decided to meditate instead of leaving the room. He just—this has been a lot.</p><p>He’s washing out the <em> conditioner thing, </em> which he’d immediately regretted because it smells like he doused his head with mead and then rolled in lavender, when there’s a knock and Fjord’s voice at the door. “I’ve got clothes and a towel, I’ll just leave leave them out here.” Beau goes to retrieve them and sets them on the stool.</p><p>“You good here, or do you actually need babysitting?”</p><p>“I can manage.”</p><p>“Cool. Just scream if you start drowning. If you’re not out in five minutes we’ll all assume you’re dead.”</p><p>“Beau,” he says as she’s halfway through the door. She stops. “Frumpkin was there?”</p><p>“What?” And then, “Oh. Yeah, as a spider. Caleb wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.”</p><p>“Okay. Thank you, that’s all.”</p><p>She leaves, and he ducks below the surface one last time.</p><p>There had been a spider, in his cell. At first he’d thought it was a convenient way for his captors to surveil him, and then that it was a normal spider and he was going insane. It stayed in one spot above the door, and seemed to hide whenever anyone entered. He’d had no conclusive answer until a genasi guard took a shift guarding the corridor, carrying a lantern so she could see. In that light, what Essek had missed in the grayscale of darkvision became apparent: orange and brown stripes.</p><p>There wasn't any chance that Caleb was close enough to actually command his familiar. No doubt Frumpkin was just acting on standing orders, reacting to simple changes in variables like the occasional visitor. But it had been nice to think he might at least be watching.</p><p>That knowledge also meant that when Essek was marched out of his cell and felt a small weight drop onto the back of his neck and tumble halfway down his shirt, he knew better than to react. It had remained there until they neared the gallows. Then it had rapidly scurried back up to the collar of his shirt, paused, and skittered up his neck and into his hair. Every several seconds it would tug at a strand of hair, one-two-three-four, pause. And again.</p><p>He was still approaching the place where he was about to die, but at least he knew that Caleb was somewhere within a hundred feet, perhaps invisible. He wasn't <em> quite </em> dying alone, and that had to count for something, right?</p><p>Abruptly, the muffled roar of flowing water feels stifling. Essek flails around for a moment before standing, gasping for air, his heartbeat gradually slowing as he listens to Veth and Beau bickering about something, just distant enough that he can't make out the words. </p><p>He steps out of the tub, towels off, pulls on the shirt he's been given. It's off-white and smells like incense. Definitely Caleb's. The trousers he thinks probably belong to Fjord, or maybe even Caduceus—he has to roll up the cuffs. The socks have polka dots. He laughs as he pulls them on, and then wanders out to find the Nein.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ten gold says you don’t suspect a thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: Essek wakes up from a really bad nap and has a bath.</p><p>this chapter: The Mighty Nein discuss plans and everything is not as it seems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay, first order of business—”</p><p>“Can you wait until we’re done eating, maybe?” Fjord asks.</p><p>Beau shrugs. “Not my fault that you chew slow. First order of business. Cerberus Assembly. We keep getting close to nailing them and then someone dies. Our contact in Rexxentrum, then Expositor Vialda, and now Essek. We've got the Martinet as long as he doesn't move the location of his clones—oh yeah, we figured out that he was cloning himself.”</p><p>“That makes sense, based off of the discrepancies I found. I was going to suggest necromancy as a possibility, but then...well.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, you were right and look where that got you. We have enough evidence to get Ludinus arrested for necromancy, but the only proof we have for DeRogna and Trent is a half-destroyed note proving that they were working with the beacons. We're still not sure if the king was aware, so that might not be worth shit. Might just have to kill them. Either way, we need to approach this from a different angle.”</p><p>Everyone looks at Essek. “I assume I’m your different angle?”</p><p>“You were super helpful before, and that was when you were trying not to get involved,” Jester says. “And now everyone thinks you're dead.”</p><p>“I mean. He <em> was </em>dead until today,” Caduceus points out. “We still need to be careful.”</p><p>“I’ll help in whatever way I can, but I fear I'm less useful to you without any professional connections or...I'm assuming you didn't manage to retrieve my spellbook?”</p><p>“You can copy anything you'd like out of mine, but unfortunately we weren't able to retrieve any of your possessions. We have a few arcane contacts that might be helpful in that regard as well, but none who have access to dunamancy. I am sorry.”</p><p>“That is fine. Though that being the case, I’m afraid it might have been a better use of your time to petition direct aid from those contacts.”</p><p>“Hey man, you don't get to tell us how we should waste our time,” Beau says, scowling. “I mean. Not that you're a waste of time or anything. Shit.”</p><p>“I think what Beau is trying to say,” Fjord says, “is that we would have done this regardless of whether or not you were willing to help us with this. Your value isn't based off of whether you're useful or not.”</p><p>“Also, dunamancy is not the only thing of use here. There is something to be said for having interacted with these individuals before. That is useful. You’re clever and you know how to cover your tracks. That is useful. You have a different set of experiences that can offer us a new perspective tactically. That is useful. We will not win this just with spells. And if it does come down to both sides shooting each other with magic until one or the other is all dead, then one extra Counterspell could be life or death. Do not sell yourself short, Thelyss.”</p><p>“Thank you. Though you do know I am no longer part of Den Thelyss, right?” he adds.</p><p>“Essek, then,” Caleb says, softer.</p><p>“Do you want to give yourself a different name, though? I think maybe Caduceus is the only one who doesn't have an extra one, so if you want to do that it would be very, you know, on-brand,” Yasha suggests.</p><p>“No, I'm fine.” Essek scours his memory before giving in. “I know Veth was Nott for a while...?”</p><p>“I don't really think I have any other names unless you count ‘Expositor,’" Beau points out. </p><p>“I suppose not. And I don't really go by Orphanmaker, so I don't know if that counts.”</p><p>“Yeah, and it’s <em> totally normal </em> for a tiefling to choose their own name, so I don’t either.”</p><p>“I think it’s only Veth and Caleb,” Fjord says. “I just don’t use one of two, which is a completely average number of names.”</p><p>“I think maybe we have gotten slightly off track? Essek has agreed to help and we will have to work out the details of how that will work as we go along, but we had other topics to discuss,” Caleb points out. Essek is dying to know exactly what Caleb's name situation is, has a theory or two, but perhaps now isn’t the right time.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Okay, second point of order, what do we do with Essek? We have some options and they all suck, but if you have any input we're all ears.”</p><p>Essek shrugs. “I have been alive for a bit over an hour and my current state is not particularly conducive to hasty strategic planning. I feel like I was run over by a cart.”</p><p>“Unfortunately that's pretty normal when it comes to coming back after that long,” Caduceus says. “It's nothing that rest won't fix, though.”</p><p>Beau pulls out a small journal and flips it open. “Okay. Option one, which is our least shitty option—<em> in my opinion, </em> fine, don't look at me like that—is that you just stay out of Xhorhas so that people never realize you aren't dead.”</p><p>“It won't work for long. There's a reason they didn't destroy my body. If any new evidence comes to light, it's standard procedure to exhume a corpse for questioning.”</p><p>Beau strikes through a line. “Great. Option one and a half, we clone you and then put the spare body back in a reverse grave robbery.”</p><p>“I believe it takes a significant amount of time for a clone to grow, and assuming that Speak With Dead even works when the target is still alive...?” Caleb trails off, looking to the clerics.</p><p>“I think it just asks the body, not the soul. Don't see any reason why it wouldn't work,” Caduceus says.</p><p>“Ah. Then a dead clone would not have any life experiences to draw upon. So for that option to work, we would need to avoid suspicion for months, kill Essek, and then return his original corpse in the state they would expect it to be in based off of his time of death and state of injury.” Caleb says. “It is possible, but risky and extremely unpleasant.”</p><p>“Okay, no, nevermind.” Beau scribbles out whatever she was writing. “We're not gonna fucking kill him. Option two, the Dynasty eventually figures out that Essek is alive, but we make it impossible for them to find him.”</p><p>“Oh! That reminds me.” Caleb reaches under his shirt and pulls out a charm on a fine gold chain. “You might as well attune to this now.”</p><p>Essek takes the necklace. It appears to be a rather standard magic item, one that explains Caleb’s immunity to Scrying. Normally he’s loathe to attune to anything without identifying it first, but he’s not terribly worried about this one.</p><p>“Are you sure, Caleb?” Veth asks, staring at him anxiously.</p><p>“Ja, it is fine.”</p><p>Essek frowns, not entirely sure what he's missing. “If it's important for you to have this...”</p><p>“Eh, they've known how to find me for months now. All it's good for now is sentimental value, and mostly not good sentiments. We need you to remain hidden if anyone scries on us. One problem at a time.”</p><p>Essek loops the periapt over his head and tucks it under his shirt. “It won't be enough to prevent the Dynasty from finding me once they know I'm missing.”</p><p>“Yeah, that's why we have like. Options 2a through 2c. First one is that you just hide somewhere no one would bother looking and we only interact with you via Sending for. Uh. However long it takes for them to stop spying on us randomly, so maybe forever.” Beau shrugs.</p><p>“I like that one less than the one where you murder me. No offense, Jester,” he adds at her dismayed expression. “Twenty-five words is just not...adequate.”</p><p>“No, none taken! I hate that one too. I don't want to have to <em> abandon </em> you, that would suck.”</p><p>“It's also rather difficult to think of somewhere remote enough that you wouldn't be discovered even after centuries,” Fjord points out. “I had the thought that you could stay at the Menagerie with the Stones, but people do come and go frequently enough that someone might mention something eventually.”</p><p>“Okay, second sub-option is that we suck up to Dairon and see if they’re willing to give us that ring so you can pretend to be someone else all the time. It's not an illusion so people are less likely to see through it, but I'm pretty sure it still takes concentration so you'd basically be hamstrung as a spellcaster.”</p><p>“Ja, it is based on Alter Self. That is also two attunement items.”</p><p>“That is...less than ideal, yes. Did you say this item belonged to a Dairon?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“No relation to your housekeeper.”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, no, same Dairon. She works for the Cobalt Soul, so. Yeah. She almost fucking caught you, by the way.”</p><p>Essek sighs and rubs his face. “I don’t know why I am surprised anymore.”</p><p>“But assuming that doesn’t work—and I really don’t think it would, that fucking thing is amazing, <em> I </em>wouldn't give it away—we can do the permanent version. Which would solve the concentration and attunement thing, and means no one would notice if you fell unconscious or something.”</p><p>He doesn't understand what she means until he notices Veth's scowl, sinking down in her seat like she wants to hide under the table. “Oh. You mean the spell we made for Veth.”</p><p>“It's not exactly ideal either, we're well aware, but it is <em> safer </em> than the other options so we figured we'd bring it up just in case you've always wanted to be a bugbear or something,” Fjord says.</p><p>“It...is,” Essek says. “There's still the very real likelihood that my empty grave is discovered, they attempt to scry on me and are blocked, and they connect the dots between that and your new high elf friend whom they also can't scry upon.”</p><p>“If you don’t like it you can just tell us,” Beau says.</p><p>“Well. I'm not...” He bites his lip, searching for the right words. “Enthusiastic? About doing something so drastic and being stuck with it for a year minimum.”</p><p>Veth relaxes slightly, gives him a little nod.</p><p>“I'm not saying it isn't viable. I certainly prefer that to dying and having my corpse mutilated. But if we can come up with another solution, I'd be glad to have another option.”</p><p>There's a long pause where everyone tries to pretend they aren't staring at Caleb, who has buried his face in his hands. Finally, he says, “There is one possibility we have not looked into yet. It is not terribly likely, but neither is it impossible. One of the people you’ve been working with is a master of enchantment.”</p><p>In his frazzled state it takes Essek an embarrassing amount of time to understand what Caleb’s trying to imply. “...Are you suggesting that I was manipulated somehow?”</p><p>“Maybe. He could have altered your memory and you would be none the wiser.”</p><p>“I could cast a Greater Restoration on you to check,” Jester suggests.</p><p>Essek grimaces. “I sincerely doubt it will do anything, and I don’t want to waste any more of your valuable material components.”</p><p>“But we should probably do it just in case. Like, imagine that we go through all that trouble hiding you and then it turns out you were executed for stuff you weren’t even really responsible for. Also, how do you feel about cupcakes?”</p><p>“Ah. I’m not terribly fond of sweets.”</p><p>“But have you ever had a black moss cupcake? They’re really good and not as sweet as the other ones. I can get you one here, the kitchen has basically <em> everything. </em>Do you want to try it to see if you like them?”</p><p>Essek sighs. “I will try one. Just one.”</p><p>“Great! I’m going to go get some diamond dust and cupcakes, you guys just wait here!” Jester jumps out of her seat and dashes out the door.</p><p>“You know, I am very tired suddenly. I’m going to bed early,” Yasha announces, and walks out after her.</p><p>Essek frowns. “What time is it?”</p><p>“Oh, eight twenty-seven or so.”</p><p>Beau makes a face. “Yeah, she’s not actually going to sleep. She’s, uh, probably uncomfortable at the idea that your brain might’ve been fucked with. You know, since she spent months being mind-controlled.”</p><p>“Ah. That makes sense.”</p><p>“I’m just going to go check on her, I’ll be right back,” Caduceus says, and then it is just Beau, Caleb, and Fjord left. Possibly Veth is still there, but Essek has been understandably distracted and lost sight of her at some point.</p><p>“So. What have I missed in the past two weeks?”</p><p>“I mean. If you hadn’t noticed, Caleb figured out this dope-ass house spell.”</p><p>“Beauregard figured out how to speak to giant eagles.”</p><p>“And after we discovered proof that Ludinus was cloning himself, we narrowed down a few locations where the clones might be hidden,” Fjord says.</p><p>“And that was when Fjord exploded a zombie with the power of chastity,” Beau adds.</p><p>“And that was when I exploded a zombie by<em> smiting it, </em> yes.”</p><p>“Whooo waaaants cupcaaaakes?” Jester skids back into the room, one of said cupcakes flying off the plate she's wielding. It stops in mid-air just before reaching the ground, then floats up and begins to disappear piece by piece. So that's where Veth is.</p><p>“I really don't like sweets that much,” Essek says again.</p><p>“Oh. But you said you would try the black moss one? You don't have to if you don't want to.”</p><p>He did agree to. He just doesn't know what possessed him to do so. As he deliberates, feeling slightly off-kilter, Jester wilts, her exuberant smile fading, tail drooping. She busies herself with handing out cupcakes to the rest of the group and completely fails at not resembling a kicked puppy.</p><p>And that's exactly why Essek had said yes, isn't it? “On second thought, I'll have a bite,” he says with a sigh.</p><p>“Oh! Great! This is the black moss one.” She slides the plate towards him. “And I did get the diamond dust, are you still okay with me casting Greater Restoration on you? If you have any fake memories then we’ll know.”</p><p>“Of course. Though I still think it's a waste of your money.” He picks up the cupcake delicately. It is, as the name suggests, black, with gray-flecked frosting. </p><p>Everyone is staring at him while Jester fumbles through her spell components. Without breaking eye contact, Beau shoves an entire cupcake into her mouth. Essek sighs and takes a bite. Blinks in surprise. </p><p>“This is...exceptionally delicious, actually.” He's so startled by the revelation that he's somehow been resurrected as someone with an appreciation for sugar that he barely notices Jester casting the Greater Restoration.</p><p>And then he remembers. Drops the cupcake.</p><p>“Uh. Are you okay, dude?” Beau asks, having swallowed her own cupcake with impressive speed. Everyone is frozen in various tense poses. </p><p>And Essek is. Speechless, a fool, <em> grossly incompetent, </em> all of the above.</p><p>“You just dropped your cupcake. We can get you another one, there's no need to have a crisis over it,” Fjord says carefully.</p><p>“I’m a <em> fool,” </em> Essek hisses, covering his face with both hands. <em> “Fuck.” </em></p><p>“Wait, did you actually remember something? ‘Cause if you got mind-controlled into stealing the—” Beau begins before Essek cuts her off.</p><p>“I <em> didn’t steal the beacons,” </em> he says. “I—I backed out at the last minute and tried to stop them, but—I was expecting a scourger, not a fucking archmage. You were right, he—the slimy one, Ickithon—I tried to Counterspell but he countered it right back, and then—it was like I never changed my mind. Gone, forgotten. It didn’t even matter.”</p><p><em> “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” </em> Jester says, drawing the word out until she runs out of air. <em> “No. </em> You’re kidding, right? Beau, punch him so we know he’s not lying.”</p><p>“No! Just use a fucking Zone of Truth on him, what the hell?”</p><p>“I didn’t prepare it today!”</p><p>Caleb waves a hand in a futile attempt to calm them. “Assuming our friend wouldn’t lie about something so important, this makes everything a lot simpler. You were trying to stop him? You didn’t steal them?”</p><p>“I didn’t. I was going to, then I changed my mind at the last second. Of course, I was arrogant enough to think I didn’t need help to prevent the theft of two of the Dynasty’s most important relics, so it didn’t end up mattering, did it?” He laughs, once, an octave too high.</p><p>“It matters if we can prove you didn’t commit the crime that you were executed for, though,” Fjord points out. “That’s a huge revelation, Essek.”</p><p>“I...suppose so.” Essek runs a hand through his hair. “I changed my mind. I can’t believe I changed my mind,” he repeats. Runs a hand through his hair again. Tries and fails to absorb this new reality where he has unmarred hands to run through his hair, and the capacity to make morally decent decisions without prodding from friends, once upon a time. “This doesn’t feel <em>real. </em>I’m such an <em>idiot.”</em></p><p>“You are <em> not. </em> Essek. Look at me.” He does. Caleb’s stare is grim, intense. “Trent Ikithon is <em> horrifyingly </em> practiced at manipulating others, with or without the use of magic. You were chosen for a reason. You were young, talented, isolated, you had grand expectations to fulfil. That is what he looks for, those are the types he targets. This does not change anything we knew about <em> why </em> the Assembly contacted you, only the specifics of how they used you.”</p><p>Essek looks away.</p><p>“Hey,” Jester says after a moment, placing a hand over one of his. “I know this is a really big thing to learn all of a sudden and you’ve only been awake for a couple hours, do you want us to take a break from planning stuff? We can figure out Zone of Truth stuff and how to kill Trent and everything else starting tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Veth pipes up from...wherever. “Caleb can show you all the extra rooms so you know your way around, and then we can have a little ‘welcome back to life’ party.”</p><p>“What’s this about a party?” Caduceus’ voice calls out.</p><p>“Essek didn’t steal the beacons and we’re holding a reverse funeral for him,” Veth yells back.</p><p>“Huh,” he says as he ducks back into the room. “Never done one of those before. Are you doing okay?”</p><p>Essek sighs, waggles his hand back and forth in the universal <em> ehhh </em> gesture. Saying <em> I’m a different person than I thought I was five minutes ago and I’ve only been alive for two hours so that news is too much to process at the moment </em>is far too many words.</p><p>“Well, if you’re willing to wait ten minutes, I can get you some nice tea. And if you’d like a hug, that can happen right away.”</p><p>“I’m...not too much of a hug person, I’m afraid.” He frowns at the table, thinking of Caleb hugging him and Veth, freezing up and only realizing that he should have tried hugging back after it was already done. “Though I was also certain I was a traitor and a dead man until just recently, and neither of those turned out to be absolutes, did they? So. Sure. Why not?”</p><p>He stands, unsteady. Caduceus hugs him. He smells like fresh earth and his arms are fuzzy. The height difference is ridiculous. Essek feels a little like he’s going to melt into a puddle. So yes, it turns out he’s an arrogant idiot who couldn't manage to hold onto a single moral qualm for more than five minutes before having it enchanted away, but he's also discovered that he is a hug person, and that makes the rest better somehow.</p><p>Caduceus lets go—sets him down, really—and pats him on the shoulder. “I'll go start the tea.”</p><p>In the meantime, Essek is given a tour of the expanded version of their house. He spends most of the time searching for little differences. Caleb's memory is <em> impeccable, </em> but they have added things here and there. Cat perches. A training room in the basement. Carved patterns along the doorways, which on closer inspection are comprised mostly of tiny dicks. A second hot tub, <em> just in case we explode the first one somehow, you never know. </em>Several extra rooms, including four guest bedrooms of various aesthetics.</p><p>“You can choose whichever one you'd like for now. Tomorrow we can make something tailored specifically to your tastes,” Caleb tells him. “I also altered the study to include things I liked about yours, so feel free to use that space if you so desire.”</p><p>The “party” mostly ends up involving snacks and a lot of bantering about inconsequential topics, and Essek couldn't be more glad. He doesn't need any more attention placed upon himself, just wants a distraction from everything that's happened, and everything that turns out to have <em> not </em> happened after all.</p><p>Eventually people wander off to their respective rooms. Essek ends up selecting the blue room, a decision which is absolutely not based off the fact that it is almost below Beau and Jester’s room and he can hear the faint murmur of their conversation.</p><p>But then that ends, and everything is still.</p><p>Here’s the thing: Essek has lived for a hundred twenty-odd years, functionally by himself for most of them. But he’s also only <em> been alive </em> for six hours, so in some ways this is the longest he’s been alone in his life. He’s too frazzled to actually fall into a trance, too restless to fall unconscious instead. He ends up drifting silently through the lower floor of the house, straining his ears for any evidence of the others upstairs and hoping that the ghostly servants aren’t sentient enough to be judging him.</p><p>After the third lap, the door to the study clicks open, light spilling out from the doorway. “Ah, Essek. Would you like to keep me company in here for a while? I’m just going through old notes.”</p><p>Which is how Essek finds himself nodding off in a spare armchair, listening to the scritch of a quill and a low rumbling from Frumpkin, watching the flickering lamplight reflect orange in Caleb’s hair as he leans over the table. Essek is in the same spot when he wakes, though a blanket has been thrown over him.</p><p>“Speaking of Zone of Truth, do you think Essek is up yet?” he hears from the direction of the dining room. “Otherwise I’m just gonna pocket his bacon.”</p><p>“Ah. Unfortunately, the food only exists inside the mansion.”</p><p>“Shit, really? You’ve been feeding us fake meat? Does that mean that Caduceus can eat this?”</p><p>Essek smiles. Rises from the chair, massages his unfortunate neck. Goes to have a breakfast interrogation with friends.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My goal is to post chapters every Friday, but this one is early because it's an Important Chapter and I'm impatient.</p><p>note from the future: Hey. If you're feeling kinda weird about this chapter and you're not sure if you want to continue reading, a) I completely understand, and b) I would highly recommend skipping to chapter 8, then coming back here and reading everything else in order. There are MAJOR spoilers there, but ones which provide context for this chapter without spoiling much from the rest. This fic was intentionally designed to be fun to (re)read with spoilers. Just trust me on this one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Purely hypothetical scenarios</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: The Mighty Nein discuss plans and everything is not as it seems.</p><p>this chapter: Essek develops a routine but it keeps getting interrupted by fun group outings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They exit what Caleb has been calling “the mansion” and everyone else has been calling “the Xhorhaus 2.0” shortly before noon the next day so that Caleb can recast the spell. Jester's mother pops in for a few moments to chat and formally introduce herself to Essek. She is lovely and well-dressed and apparently quite famous, and he is wearing ill-fitting clothes and no shoes. By all rights he should feel terribly awkward about it, but something about Marion’s presence puts him at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the doorway reappears, and the wizards get to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first order of business, which takes up most of the day, is recreating the Teleport spell using whatever they can salvage from Essek's memory and Caleb's notes on Teleportation Circle. This is...comfortable. It's similar to work they've done before and leaves little room for mental wandering. Fjord shows up at one point with an empty spellbook, a stack of paper, and ink, which Caleb doesn't actually seem to notice until several minutes later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That is from...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fjord was just here. He suggested that we take a break for dinner at some point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ach, it is only nine thirty-eight, we are too close to stop now. This glyph here, in the second quadrant...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is how Essek falls asleep in a chair again while Caleb finishes copying the recreated spell into his own book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, they begin the process of copying vital spells to Essek's new spellbook. It’s mostly things that will be useful in combat, a variety of utilitarian spells, and all of the Dunamancy he's ever taught Caleb, now gifted back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes quite a bit of time, especially because as soon as he’s copied over Disguise Self, everyone wants to go on outings with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They make it sound reasonable at first. Beau tosses him a pair of boots—Dynasty make, the ones she normally wears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are magic, they should fit for now. Disguise yourself as someone the same size as you. We’re going to get you some practical clothes, and your own fucking shoes. I want those back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t question who is included in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> and regrets it shortly thereafter. Jester has a very...unique idea about what constitutes </span>
  <em>
    <span>practical clothes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and neither of them like his sense of fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, if you only wear black and long sleeves you’re going to overheat in like, two minutes here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your arms. Are you hiding tattoos or something?” Jester asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I just lived in a comparatively cold city where it is always dark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you want tattoos just let me know, I could give you some really cool ones. And in the meantime maybe we can get you some stuff without sleeves, or really flowy ones? How do you feel about periwinkle? Or stripes? I don’t think I’ve seen you wear patterns but, you know, you were always hiding under your cloak thing so you could have been wearing polka dots and I don’t know if I would’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticed.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they run across an oculist’s shop and insist on a detour to find him tinted glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look dude, I’m not saying the hat is bad, but you’re squinting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and you’d look </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> good with glasses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>incorrigible, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he can’t find it in him to mind. They end up cajoling some poor optician into taking a custom order, which they have unnecessarily strong opinions about (Beau insists the lenses should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>like, purple but kinda blue, and there should probably be side shields but he still needs some peripheral vision so maybe make them out of a mesh or something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jester draws reference pictures and refuses to let Essek look.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the second night of Essek falling asleep in a chair, Caleb adds a sofa in the study. It becomes a habit, falling asleep on the couch while Caleb works just a little later into the evening. He's never been one for sleeping before—few elves are, though there are some among the consecuted who never break the habit after spending a lifetime or two as some other race. Hypothetically, he could just trance for several hours, which should be more efficient and generally more refreshing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does try trancing one night, and having the house to himself is downright anxiety-inducing. He doesn't know what to do with himself, or his thoughts. He ends up finding Caleb's stash of incense and summoning a familiar in the dining room just to distract himself. He'd copied over the spell on a whim, not planning on doing anything with it in the near term, but it takes over an hour to cast and, hypothetically, at the end of it he won't be alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His plan is to summon a cat. Or maybe a weasel like Jester's, though it turns out that Sprinkle is an actual weasel who is just unnaturally durable. But at the end of his casting, what the dregs of smoke coalesce into is a small gray spider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a last minute decision. Maybe because it's ironic, for a drow who mostly knows about Lolth from cautionary fairy tales. Maybe because it's practical, the most unobtrusive form available, and he'd like to keep this to himself for now. Maybe it's because in the silent, empty dark, his only source of comfort had been a tiny arachnid keeping watch at the threshold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He names her Alsuzu. Watches her skitter over his knuckles and mumbles idle nothings to her until Caduceus wakes up, blessedly early, and offers to make him tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Fjord invite Essek out for fish and chips later that day. Essek is loathe to pause in the middle of copying over a complicated spell, but Caleb makes the decision for him, getting up from the sofa to stretch and asking, “May I come with? I’ve barely been out of the mansion all day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of organizing papers, they head out to a spot in the Open Quay that sells fish and chips, and sit under a canopy designed to keep the sun and at least some of the seagulls off of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I'm still not sure I'm doing this for the right reason,” Caleb says when they are halfway through the meal. “With the Assembly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus hums. “Well, you've mentioned some noble reasons and some selfish ones. The outcome for the rest of the world is going to be the same regardless of your intentions. What difference it does make is how it changes you,” he says, and takes another bite. “So that's something to think about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Though I will say it's worth considering both the good and not so great motivations for doing something,” Fjord adds. “Let them coexist, you know. Ignoring the bad reasons just because you also have good ones can blind you to what you’re really doing. You don’t want to, say, unchain an evil snake demigod just to get water powers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek laughs, once, bitterly. “Or jump-start a war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or that. Purely hypothetical scenarios.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek rubs his hand across his face. Immediately regrets the smear of grease it leaves behind. Sighs. “I think that is why this feels worse now? My one...</span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a stretch, but my one guiding reason is gone and it turns out the only things I had control over were all the bad decisions that followed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus licks his fingers. “Huh. Have you ever pruned a tree?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your situation is a little like someone who's been putting off pruning a tree. It might have been easier if you'd started earlier, but the tree just kept getting more and more overgrown. Eventually you realized it was necessary. And then you still didn't trim it because you were worried that if you started pruning one area the whole thing would look lopsided until you finally finished. So you didn't really deal with your problem, and because it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>evenly</span>
  </em>
  <span> overgrown it didn't look like too much of a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now all the leaves on one of the biggest branches fell off, and you can see the shape of the tree in a way you aren't used to. You can't ignore the fact that it needs trimming anymore. The branch is still there, and it's going to be a hassle to deal with because you’re pretty sure it’s dead, but at least now you have a definite place to start. It’s not that you never cared about the outcomes of your actions, it’s just that you haven’t really been processing anything. This is a start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe do not try processing it all at once,” Caleb murmurs. “One stick at a time, or the weight will crush you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They return and continue their work late into the evening. This time Essek tries to stay awake as long as Caleb, despite the fact that he will likely have difficulty falling asleep if Caleb leaves before he does. It's become a bit of a pattern, Essek giving up for the night to go lay on the couch (which he swears has been getting progressively more comfortable,) Caleb promising he will be</span>
  <em>
    <span> just a bit longer, I don't want to keep you awake.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Essek always falls unconscious before Caleb stops working, and Caleb is always up before he is. There is technically no proof that the human requires sleep. Perhaps he doesn't. More likely, Essek isn't used to sleeping and requires far more than reasonable to actually feel rested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must not be as subtle as he thinks, because Caleb pauses to stretch and says, “You're nodding off. I will be just a little while longer, if you want to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been pulling a lot of late nights, Widogast. Make sure you get some sleep yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ja, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turns out neither of them are destined to get enough sleep, because the next morning is when the sunglasses are finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—not in his room, I wonder if he's already upstairs? Hey Essek! Helloooo?? Where are—oh shit, were you still sleeping?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He slept in the library? Wow. Fucking nerd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek rubs at his face as Jester and Beau come into focus, hovering in the doorway. “Is there something you need me for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, not exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got up early to pick up your glasses! Aren't they pretty?” Jester holds up the aforementioned glasses, which are indeed </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretty.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Yes. Thank you, Jester.” He sits up, and she hands them over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now the sun won't hurt your eyes as much. Hey, do you want to go to the beach with us? It's really nice out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HEY CALEB,” Beau yells. There's a dull</span>
  <em>
    <span> thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> from his room. “Wanna go to the beach?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...ja, wer muss schon schlafen?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Just a moment.” Some miscellaneous scrabbling noises and thuds commence, and then the door opens to admit one extremely frazzled human holding a shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he is not wearing a shirt, Essek notes with a completely academic interest. The freckles continue onto his chest, Essek notes, and he has a variety of scars across his torso, including one that looks like he may have been impaled by something. His hair falls loose in waves around his face, and he has yet to shave off the stubble on his chin, Essek notes. Jester is waggling her eyebrows at him suggestively as Caleb walks further into the room, Essek notes, and stops staring. If he’s blushing, hopefully it isn’t too noticeable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau and Jester are opposed to eating breakfast in the mansion, despite the fact that breakfast cannot </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span> the mansion, because they are worried that their favorite spot will be taken. After a few minutes of bickering with Fjord, which Essek is definitely paying attention to instead of admiring the shoulders of a still-shirtless Caleb, Caduceus solves the problem by appearing with a picnic basket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek dons the hat as well as the new glasses before disguising himself, and they head out. It's not</span>
  <em>
    <span> terribly</span>
  </em>
  <span> early, if he's being honest—plenty of people are out and about already, and the breakfast Caduceus made for them is more a brunch. The beach is unoccupied when they arrive, with one exception.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Yasha says when she notices the group approaching. “It’s a lovely day out, I was wondering if you would—oh. Hello, Essek. I, um, like your glasses. It is a shame that I can't look at them any longer because I was leaving now. Goodbye.” She turns abruptly and trots off, not in the direction they'd came from but further down the coast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye?” Essek calls out as she turns around a rock and disappears. He turns back to the others, most of whom are completely failing to act naturally. “I suspected earlier. She really is avoiding me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nooooo,” Jester starts, even as Caleb says, “That is correct,” in a placid voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jester glares at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? It is true, I don't know why we would bother to pretend otherwise. She is not mad at you,” he says to Essek. “There is just something that she is, ah, working on, that she does not want to talk to you about quite yet. Just give it some time. She is awkward at times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek can only shrug. He’s not going to get any answers by pressing the matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus lays out a large blanket, and they all sit down to eat before wandering away to enjoy the beach. Essek opens his book and begins to read, glancing up to watch the others every once in a while. Fjord must have some kind of water breathing spell, because he doesn't surface more than a couple times over the next hour. Caduceus mostly wades through the shallows, pants cuffed up to his knobby knees. Beau spends a while just floating on her back, but eventually ends up in some sort of splashing contest with Jester. Caleb, who had been wading like Caduceus, gets caught in the crossfire and crashes deeper into the surf to retaliate. When he emerges his clothes are...very clingy. Essek averts his gaze before realizing that no one can see where he's looking with the sunglasses on. He goes back to staring, flipping a page every once in a while for good measure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's known Caleb is attractive for a long time. He's been </span>
  <em>
    <span>attracted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Caleb for a long time. It's just been...a tricky thing to navigate, a game with too many variables to ever be real. Something that could not exist in the way he wanted, something he wanted in a way he didn't want to acknowledge. He's been very good at denying himself genuine intimacy, until recently. Now, in the privacy of his own head, he can admit he hadn't pursued anything because he wouldn't be satisfied with an endless cycle of using each other for personal gain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, he can wonder if things wouldn't have to be that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought leaves him breathless, even more than the fabric clinging to Caleb's ass. But counter to that is the thought that he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this, and if there’s any fairness left in the world he won’t get to keep— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you should come join us in the water. It’s really warm, you’d probably like it,” Jester says, interrupting his thoughts. “And you’ll get sand in your book if you read out here, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, Essek dumps a handful of sand on the page and then prestidigitates it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, nevermind, that’s pretty cool. Are you sure you don’t want to go in the water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would make my disguise fairly obvious when I emerge from the ocean with dry clothes,” he points out. “We don’t know who might be watching.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could just re-disguise yourself without any clothes and then it won’t be a problem. You know, when we first came here Caleb took off all his clothes and walked into the ocean naked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He coughs, tries and fails to form a coherent response. Jester’s smile is sharp despite its sweetness. Essek belatedly realizes that </span>
  <em>
    <span>perhaps</span>
  </em>
  <span> his interest has not been as discreet as he’d presumed. And if there was any doubt left in Jester’s mind, the ten seconds of flustered stuttering has erased them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. Clears his throat. “Jester? I appreciate your...enthusiasm in this matter. But I need—there’s a lot of things to consider and I’m still trying to figure myself out, as it were. Could you maybe not...push things right now?” he asks softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jester sobers immediately. “Of course.” And then, “You do know he likes you back though, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek considers the question, gazing out at the human now sitting at the edge of the shore. “Yes,” he admits. “I just—need some time. There are many other variables at play.” And at least when it comes to Caleb, he gets the feeling that he doesn’t know all of them yet.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Look, I had to have at least one chapter that was mostly fluff.</p><p>(Consider: Essek wearing <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ORiginalsTradingCo/photos/a.463040993839506/798719610271641/?type=3&amp;theater">these.</a>)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The only thing I’ve ever had faith in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: Essek develops a routine but it keeps getting interrupted by fun group outings.</p><p>this chapter: The Mighty Nein leave Nicodranas and mentally prepare for a dangerous mission.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t believe the sun actually causes burns,” Essek complains again, jabbing at the tender skin on his forearms and frowning. </p><p>Caleb smiles. “I suppose you’ve lived your whole life in a dark city. Did no one mention it?” The poor bastard has it far worse than Essek, between his fair skin and not having worn a hat. The redness on his face has only gotten worse overnight, the skin on his nose starting to peel.</p><p>“They did, <em> all the time. </em> It just sounded so ridiculous that I assumed it was mostly propaganda. Why do you people go <em> outside </em> in the middle of the day?”</p><p>“Well, us humans at least have the excuse of not seeing anything in the middle of the night. Are you sure you don’t want to tag along?”</p><p>“Positive. And please wear the hat, your face is a travesty. I mean, ah—that sounded bad—it normally looks extremely nice and now it’s red. Uh.”</p><p>“I will get Jester or Caduceus to heal it, don’t worry.” Caleb gives him another smile before stepping out the door. He leaves his spellbook with Essek—and Frumpkin to supervise, though mostly the cat just vies for his attention and distracts him.</p><p>About mid-afternoon he hears the jingling of chimes and high-pitched exclamations as someone new enters the Xhorhaus 2.0. Essek is in the dining room, looking for a snack while Frumpkin does his best to trip him, but he summons his own familiar to skitter over to the lobby to investigate. From here it sounds like a child, a few bits that might be a man, and then an interjection that is unmistakably Veth's voice.</p><p>Essek doesn't connect the dots until he peers through Alsuzu’s eyes and finds himself looking at his former prisoner. Then he blinks back to himself, frozen with some emotion, one with claws and teeth.</p><p>“Mrrp?” says Frumpkin.</p><p>Essek casts Invisibility on himself and flees to the roof before they can realize he is home. Home? Does he actually belong in this place, or is he the intruder?</p><p>“Looking for something?” Caduceus asks even before Essek drops the spell. Then he looks Essek over, nods. “There are some nooks and crannies to hide in, if that's what you're here for.”</p><p>“I don't need to hide.”</p><p>“Sure, but you can if you want to. It's not the branch you were planning on trimming today. Do you want a sandwich?” He holds up a plate of little triangles. </p><p>Essek sighs. Sits in the dirt. Eats a tiny sandwich. Caduceus doesn't speak. It's not quite the comfortable silence of being ignored in favor of a book or spell, because Caduceus doesn't seem to have anything else drawing his focus unless this counts as meditation somehow, but it's good. It's enough.</p><p>This entire incident makes his decision to seek Veth out the following day even stranger.</p><p>Veth has been scarce because she's been spending most of her time with her family, as he understands it. He's felt no desire to interfere—family is not exactly a comfortable matter for him, and this particular family is...complicated by his involvement. By his previous actions.</p><p>He finds her after breakfast. “Can we speak for a moment?”</p><p>Veth freezes, halfway through standing up. “Whatever it is, I didn't do it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What what? Your face looks like you just discovered someone stole your favorite flask. All pinched and shifty.”</p><p>“No, nothing like that. I just wanted to apologize. To you.”</p><p>“Did<em> you </em> steal something from me?” Her eyes narrow, hands checking various pockets.</p><p>“No! I—” Essek pinches the bridge of his nose. “I want to apologize for...the war? Specifically for getting your family involved. Even though I didn’t actually steal the beacons, I am still the root cause for much of it.”</p><p>“Oh. Well. You should tell that to Yeza.” She sits back down. Essek pauses, unsure, then sits across from her.</p><p>“I...maybe. Though something tells me he wouldn't appreciate seeing me again.”</p><p>“He'll surprise you. He always does.” She leans over to grab a half-empty pitcher of lemonade. Dumps the rest of it into a few different glasses, then sticks her hand inside to fish out the lemon slices left in the bottom. “For the record, I'm not mad at you anymore.”</p><p>“There's plenty to be mad about.”</p><p>“Oh, don't give me that. I <em> know. </em>There's a whole list and I'm very good at holding grudges. But that's all in the past.” She takes a delicate bite of lemon, doesn't even wince at the taste. “I was there at your execution, you know.”</p><p>Essek blinks, several times in rapid succession. “I did <em> not </em> know.”</p><p>“I was guiding Caleb and keeping us both invisible. He'd had Frumpkin watching you as a little spider, did you know that?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Good.” She spits out a seed. “He didn’t want you to be alone.”</p><p>There’s something implied, left unsaid, perhaps a subtle emphasis of the word <em> he </em> . “And what did <em> you </em> want?” Essek asks, using magic to tug one of the full glasses across the table and into his hand.</p><p>“Well, I wanted him to be happy—happy as possible, given the situation. I also wanted to watch you die,” she adds, like it’s a casual afterthought.</p><p>Essek takes a very long drink of lemonade so he doesn’t have to respond to that one.</p><p>“I’m not saying that you <em> deserved </em> all of it. I don’t think anyone deserves to just...suffer. But my husband didn’t deserve any of what happened to him, and that didn’t stop it. All the people who died in the war didn’t deserve to die, but they did anyway. Maybe you didn’t actually deserve to die, but it happened, and I can’t think of a better way for you to really <em> understand </em> what you did.” She shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not angry anymore. You got what was coming to you. I’m satisfied with that.”</p><p>“Okay.” And then, before he can think better of it, “Was yours one of the votes against resurrecting me?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Beau mentioned that you voted.”</p><p>“I mean, technically. But it was unanimous.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Did you really think any of us would want you dead? I mean permanently,” she adds when he raises a brow. “I only wanted you dead a tiny little bit.”</p><p>Essek shrugs. “Not exactly, but there was significant risk in bringing me back. I’m still not sure that it was worth it.”</p><p>Veth gives him a little scowl and turns to fish out another lemon. “Of course it was.”</p><p>“Yes, well, things turned out about as optimally as possible. Would it still have been worth it if I’d been guilty?”</p><p>He means that the risk involved with proving his innocence is infinitely smaller than the lifelong risk of existing as a fugitive abetted by the Nein. He's fairly certain that's what he means. But Veth looks up abruptly, snaps, “Yes!” and Essek wonders if she is answering a different question.</p><p>“Besides, just because you got punished doesn’t mean you get a free pass on fixing things. We still have work to do,” she adds, calmer.</p><p>Essek nods, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “We do. Thank you.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“Hm. I'll tell you when I know.”</p><p>The next evening is when they teleport to the Empire to get started. Or it should be, if they can decide where to teleport. </p><p>“I'm just saying, the Cobalt Soul teleportation circle is foolproof. No teleporting into cliffsides, no ending up in weird places. No offense,” Beau adds in Essek’s direction.</p><p>“Ja, and then someone will say something and they'll know we're on the hunt. A proper Teleport is safer, strategically speaking.”</p><p>“We could have Caleb teleport the group more precisely, as he’s more familiar with the Empire, but then we wouldn't have immediate access to the mansion. I'm afraid I haven't copied over that particular spell,” Essek says.</p><p>“Isn't the point of the mansion so that we don't get scried upon? If anyone recognizes where we're sleeping, we're kind of screwed,” Fjord points out.</p><p>“Yeah, and if we teleport and accidentally end up in the middle of a crowded street, we're <em> also </em> screwed,” Beau counters. “Bunch of civilians would <em> definitely </em>talk.”</p><p>“We could just teleport into the woods somewhere,” Veth says.</p><p>“The woods nearest Zadash?” Beau says, and the halfling winces.</p><p>“Shit. Maybe not.”</p><p>“Does anyone have any souvenirs from outside Zadash on our last visit?” Caleb asks. “Objects you picked up, anything like that. We can use an associated object as a focus.”</p><p>“I have this mask, but it's from a shop in the city. Like, with a kind of creepy lady, way back from before we were pirates,” Jester says, pulling a metal monstrosity from her pink bag.</p><p>Yasha pulls out a book and begins flipping through it. “I don't know. Would Hupperdook work?”</p><p>“Too far north,” Fjord says, poking the map.</p><p>“Too long ago,” Caleb adds. “We would need something within the past six months. The flowers are too old, and so is the mask.”</p><p>“How long ago was Felderwin?” Caduceus asks. “That was right before we left for Xhorhas.”</p><p>“Shit! I still have the tripod,” Jester says, sticking her arm back into the bag.</p><p>“Hm. That would work,” Caleb says, and Essek tries to do the mental math. He’s known the Nein for less than six months. It doesn’t feel right.</p><p>Jester produces a folding tripod and hands it over to Essek. It’s lighter than he expects—hollow, probably. It’s also made out of platinum.</p><p>“Where did this come from?”</p><p>“Veth’s basement. They were using it to hold the beacon while they did experiments and stuff.”</p><p>“Oh.” The metal feels colder, now.</p><p>“Just let me scry first, I don’t know if anyone has been there since we left.” Jester sits down and starts casting. The others continue to converse quietly about other locations and next steps, but Essek is frozen by the realization that this is <em> happening. </em> A year ago this entire situation would've been unfathomable, and now he doesn't even question teleporting a bunch of random adventurers into the Empire to take down his former collaborators.</p><p>Not even a bunch of random adventurers. Friends. That is the strangest part. What has he ever done to deserve any of these people? He's stoked the embers of war, worked with their enemies, overseen the capture and interrogation of a family member, lied to them, lied to them <em> so many times, </em> about the smallest and largest of things. What do they even like him for? </p><p>He spends a solid minute trying to come up with some redeeming quality, some appealing aspect of his personality other than “intellectually gifted,” and can't dredge up a single thing he actually likes. What has he even been <em> doing </em> with his life?</p><p>“Herr Essek, you have been staring at the wall for ninety-eight seconds and if you don't blink soon someone is going to notice. You may reply to this Message,” Caleb's voice says in the back of his head. Essek blinks, glances around. Caleb has broken away from the main group to sit on the loveseat across the room, petting his cat and seemingly flipping through notes.</p><p>Essek looks at Jester, who is still talking at the Traveler, and wanders over to sit next to Caleb. </p><p>“Copper for your thoughts?” Caleb asks.</p><p>“Don’t undervalue me, now.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Caleb reaches into a pocket and pulls out a platinum piece.</p><p>Essek snorts. He doesn't actually want to explain his most recent train of thoughts, uninterested in sympathy. But something gives him pause, maybe the level look Caleb is giving him, like he can be trusted not to overreact.</p><p>Essek takes the coin. “I just don't understand why none of you hate me,” he murmurs, low enough that the others can't hear. “It confounds me at times.”</p><p>“Hm. I think we would have, if we'd learned much earlier. Before we really knew you.”</p><p>The answer surprises him, and it takes him a moment to figure out why. “Do you think you know me, then?”</p><p>“Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself,” Caleb says, and isn't that a statement? He waves a hand back towards the others. “I've wondered why they don't hate me, more than enough times. At a certain point you have to trust your friends' judgement and stop arguing with it.”</p><p>“Easier said than done.”</p><p>“It's a leap of faith. I know that is not something you are accustomed to, but I can promise it will improve your life, to not waste all of your time doubting the depth of their loyalty.”</p><p>“The only thing I've ever had faith in—” Essek cuts himself off.</p><p>Caleb’s tone is neutral, perhaps too much so. “Yourself, ja, I know.”</p><p>It's not what he was going to say, but he doesn't correct Caleb. His impulse was to say <em> the only thing I've ever had faith in is the Nein, </em> and he's not sure he wants to admit that just yet.</p><p>“The chair is still there, you guys!” Jester yells. “And I don't think anything else has changed, either. We should be good to go.”</p><p>Everyone moves to hold hands. Caleb must know by now that it’s entirely unnecessary for Teleport, but he just holds his free hand out towards Essek. Essek takes it, traces the somatic components with practiced ease before tapping the tripod and teleporting them all to wherever it came from. Dark. Very basement-y. About what he expected, really.</p><p>“Fjord. Check for any scrying devices. Caduceus, look for anything magic. And...Veth, if you wouldn’t mind checking for traps?”</p><p>“Sure. I can also peek upstairs to see if anything’s been done with the house yet,” she offers, a strange melancholy tension in her voice. </p><p>“Ja. Good,” Caleb responds. Firm. Confident. Not quite right. Essek stays off to the side with Beau and Yasha and Jester, feeling a bit of out of sorts himself. They’re on imperial soil. He doesn’t belong here. </p><p>Caleb summons the mansion, directs them inside, and waits by the door for Veth to come back. “All clear,” she says when she steps inside. Caleb nods, and they head to dinner. </p><p>The Nein eat and laugh and lounge around afterwards talking, like they normally do, but it’s not quite the same. Essek finds Jester giving Caleb a small, sad look between jokes, like this is something she’d expected, but had hoped would not actually occur. There’s a certain brittleness in the air. Caleb seems...slightly too assured?</p><p>It’s only when they’re about to retire for the evening that it occurs to Essek that he doesn’t know the last time he’s seen Caleb afraid.</p><p>Caleb says, “It would probably be unwise to stay up late scribbling notes. We need to be awake and alert in eight hours.”</p><p>“That's perfectly reasonable, yes.” Essek hesitates. “Are you...okay, here?”</p><p>“I am—” Whatever he was going to say seems to get caught in his throat. Perhaps the echo of <em> fine, </em> some version of himself that's supposed to be coping well. “I will feel better about it when this is all over. We should sleep.” Caleb snaps his fingers, and a heavy weight drops onto Essek's shoulders. Frumpkin immediately starts purring in his ear.</p><p>“Your cat?” What he means is <em> are you sure you don't you need this? </em></p><p>“Keep him for the night. We both need to sleep.” Essek doesn't ask what Caleb means by that, because the thought of someone having noticed his sleep issues and deduced the source of them is a new kind of terrifying that he doesn't have words for.</p><p>Instead, he says. “Thank you. Goodnight, then?”</p><p>“Goodnight, Essek.”</p><p>Of course Essek still can't fall asleep, even with Frumpkin curled up next to him, rumbling up a storm. Instead he contemplates the likelihood of one of them dying within the next week, or he thinks about how they've now ventured into a country that hates him on principle and how well-founded that xenophobia happens to be in his particular case, or he tries to imagine a timeline where he successfully stopped the theft of the beacons—but would he have met the Nein? Would it be worth it? What does it say about him that he's not sure?</p><p>And above everything else, even the purring coming from Frumpkin, is the oppressive silence of an empty house. Or rather, a house he rationally knows is not empty, but which the small feral animal part of him is convinced is a hollow, lifeless abode, hostile in its loneliness.</p><p>Essek stares at the ceiling, laces his fingers together, fidgets. Just to check that his hands—just to check. Caleb is literally a room away. The others are upstairs, within reach of a Message cantrip if he wants to contact them. He can get up and walk around and get a snack in the kitchen, if he so desires. He has no reason for the existential terror. He clenches his fingers tighter, wringing his hands. Just. To check.</p><p>Frumpkin stirs, stretches. Steps onto Essek's stomach, pushes his head up under his hands, parting them in the process. A fine picture of a cat looking for ear scratches.</p><p>“You do know,” Essek says, looking into Frumpkin's eyes, “that it defeats the entire purpose of going to bed early if you're still waiting for me to fall asleep first.”</p><p>It’s a safe assumption to make, all things considered. Perhaps he is talking to no one and Frumpkin is just a very good cat, but—</p><p>Caleb's door clicks open, and the lanterns in the room flicker to life. “It's the thought that counts?” Caleb mumbles, leaning against the door frame in a nightshirt.</p><p>“Go to sleep, Widogast. Actually go to sleep.”</p><p>“Will you, though?”</p><p>Essek can only grimace in response.</p><p>“Well, then we are at an impasse. Magic didn't do anything last time, but maybe we can have Beauregard hit you over the head until you fall unconscious, or we can see if Caduceus has any particularly soporific tea? Or perhaps you have some other ideas.”</p><p>“I'm an elf, magic can't put me to sleep,” Essek feels the need to point out. Then he sits up, lifting Frumpkin off his chest. “But...no, I don't have any ideas. It's a new problem for me,” he admits. “I'm not exactly used to <em> sleeping </em> at night, but...”</p><p>“I've read about elves trancing. What about this is a problem now, that wasn't before?” Caleb bends down to scoop his cat up. Looks back at Essek, bleary-eyed and placid in a fragile sort of way.</p><p>Essek stares back for a moment, unable to articulate what his precise issue is. Finally he says, “No one else is around. I know people are still here, just asleep, but...”</p><p>Caleb blinks languidly, reminding Essek for a moment of his familiar. “Hm. I get that. Isolation can be uncomfortable, once you are no longer forced to act alone. I do not think the couch will fit through the doorway,” he adds, looking over his shoulder, “but I do have a large bed, if you don't mind sharing.”</p><p>It takes a moment for Essek to understand, and then thinks he might cry for the first time in...he doesn't even know how long. Decades? But he blinks the feeling away, clears his throat. “Sure. I wouldn't mind.”</p><p>Caleb's room is...cozy. The bed is, indeed, very large, as is the cat tree taking up a corner of the room. Little porcelain statuettes crowd one shelf, and on the other is a scattering of spell components. He should probably feel something—self-conscious, awkward, tense, apprehensive perhaps—about sleeping in the same bed as Caleb Widogast, but mostly he's just tired. He lies down and falls asleep before the thought of what Jester's reaction to this situation would be even enters his mind. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The "roof" of the Xhorhaus 2.0 is just a tree-sized room with stars painted on the ceiling.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. It was a good two weeks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: The Mighty Nein leave Nicodranas and mentally prepare for a dangerous mission.</p><p>this chapter: Essek figures out his footing working alongside the Mighty Nein.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning begins comfortably, Caleb already up and dressed by the time Essek stirs awake. He prestidigitates the wrinkles from his own clothes, gathers his few possessions, eats breakfast with the others, disguises himself as a human, puts on the sunglasses. Each step feels like he is donning armor, bracing himself for what is yet to come. None of it really prepares him for the moment when everyone heads up the stairs into the charred husk of a building. No one speaks. They step out into a purple-tinted dawn, the light shining down on a group wearing imperial fashions and imperial accents like the good Empire citizens they must play as now.</p><p>Their first stop is checking in on a couple contacts in Zadash, ones that have been surreptitious enough to survive. Essek ends up grouped with Beau, Veth, and Caleb <em> because we should probably stop giving my dad new visitors to take blood from, probably. </em></p><p>This may still be a mistake, because their contact takes one look up and down Essek’s disguise and says, “Who’s this?” in a vaguely familiar voice.</p><p>“Right,” Beau says, clapping her hands. “Reintroductions. Essek, this is my mentor, Expositor Dairon of the Cobalt Soul, temporarily our housekeeper. Dairon, this is Essek, Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty until everyone figured out that he was that traitor you were looking for. Also temporarily,” she adds. “We gave him a Greater Restoration and it turns out his memories of stealing the beacons were planted by Ikithon. Questions?”</p><p><em> “Yes,” </em>Dairon says, so intensely that Essek has to fight the urge to hide behind Caleb. </p><p>As the days drag on, he finds a new routine in his lack thereof. Sometimes they get the location of an Assembly agent and spy on them or ambush them unawares. Sometimes half of them wait in the Xhorhaus 2.0 while smaller groups do recon. Once they take a day off, retreating to Nicodranas before teleporting back the next day. </p><p>Two things do not change. The first is their number, thankfully, despite enough close calls that Essek is worried the pattern will not hold through the end of this. The second is falling asleep in Caleb's bed, whatever vague fears that haunt him held at bay by the presence of another person within reach. Either the Nein hasn't noticed the change in sleeping arrangements yet, or they've somehow become astute enough to not comment.</p><p>If anyone's put it together, it's probably Caduceus, Essek figures, looking the firbolg over one day as a few of them pass the time playing cards in the war room. He has no idea what goes on in the other man's head, frankly. He seems to oscillate between omniscience and cluelessness, so it's entirely possible he knows already and doesn't think anything of it.</p><p>“Go fish,” Caduceus says with half a grin.</p><p>“Fuck you,” says Beau.</p><p>“Do you know how long it's been since Fjord left?” Essek asks.</p><p>“Hell if I know, I'm not Caleb. Doesn't seem like long, though. You think he'll run into trouble?”</p><p>“No, we've been doing well so far with keeping a low profile. I'm just—” Essek gestures vaguely. “Mildly impatient. Three of swords?” he asks Caduceus.</p><p>“Go fish. Speaking of time, I should go check the oven,” he says, setting his hand on the table face-down. “Pie’s probably over-baked by now.”</p><p>That leaves Essek and Beau.</p><p>“So,” Beau says, barely feigning nonchalance, and Essek's good mood slowly evaporates. “We <em> are </em> doing good so far. Probably that means we're gonna walk into an ambush and die,” she adds.</p><p><em> “Again,” </em> he says. “It was a good two weeks.” He's aiming for sarcastic melodrama, but a traitorous note of genuine mournfulness finds its way into his tone.</p><p>She snorts. “Look on the bright side. If we somehow make it through this then it'll be time to be all, <em> surprise, Essek is alive and also innocent, </em> and then you walk free.” Her gaze sharpens. “How are you feeling about that?”</p><p>“...a variety of emotions, I suppose.”</p><p>“Cool. Super enlightening answer. Are you relieved? Excited? Nervous?”</p><p>He sets his cards down, trying to form a coherent response. “Well. They almost certainly won’t arrest me again if we can actually retrieve the new beacon. It would be politically inconvenient. Much easier to make a show of wiping the slate clean.”</p><p>“Yeah, it kinda makes a nice narrative. You know, <em> hey, this dude didn't actually steal the two beacons you started a war over, and even though you killed him for it he was still nice enough to get you another one. </em> Hard to spin it if they just execute you again after you un-confess.”</p><p>“Something like that, though I might not word it as eloquently.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck off.”</p><p>Essek tries to smirk, but it doesn't stick. He drops his head into his arms. Maybe if he pretends to fall unconscious Beau will stop talking about this particular topic.</p><p>“So, I'm gonna be nice, here,” she says after a moment. “Because you keep deflecting from my actual question. If that's just you being inherently shifty, or you actually don't know, or you just don't want to tell me about your feelings, that's all fine. I just wanna know which one's your reason for not answering. So. What is it?”</p><p>“I don’t know how I’m feeling other than <em> bad,” </em> Essek admits, lifting his head up momentarily before dropping back onto the table. “I don’t know if it makes a material difference that I didn’t steal the beacons. I <em> wanted </em> to do it, I almost went through with it. It felt completely reasonable to believe that I <em> had </em> done it. Everything I did afterwards was of my own free will. So. I would greatly appreciate <em> not </em> being executed, but logically I can’t <em> blame </em> them.”</p><p>Beau mumbles something to herself, which might be <em> god, you sound like Caleb. </em>Then, louder, “That’s a different answer than what you told me at the peace negotiations.”</p><p>“Well. Sometimes you don’t realize how bad a mistake you’ve made until it turns out that even your past self thought it was a bad idea.”</p><p>“It really amazes me sometimes how conceited you are, holy fuck.” There’s a long pause. Then, a hand on his arm. Essek peeks up. “But hey. Uh. Thanks for the honesty. I know that doesn’t come easy when you’re used to lying all the time.”</p><p>Essek nods once. Takes a breath to speak, because Beau looks like she wants to say something else and doesn’t quite know how. Pauses. “Is that smoke?” he asks instead.</p><p>“Aw fuck. Can magic houses burn down?” she asks, already moving towards the kitchen. Essek follows, conversation put aside for another day as he mentally runs through spells to minimize whatever damage Caduceus’ baking has caused.</p><p>It’s a different set of spells than what he’s used to, tailored to different kinds of situations than what he’s used to, and Essek doesn’t feel terribly useful as a result. He’s slowly getting the hang of an Empire accent with Fjord’s help, but still avoids speaking whenever they talk to anyone important. When they split up, which is unfortunately often—as vulnerable as it leaves them, there’s more safety in nondetection than in numbers—he’s usually the designated emergency transportation, but so far they haven’t had an emergency so bad they’ve needed to flee. Overall he feels like an outsider in a group that has long known how they best work together.</p><p>In combat they are a well-oiled machine, a hasted Yasha wreaking havoc on a scourger’s subordinates, the glowing spirits flitting around Jester and Caduceus making it difficult to move past, keeping the soldiers away from their wizard. A new regiment shows up behind the group, and before Essek can react Caleb lays down a Fireball into the center of them. The few that don’t die immediately are left staggering; Essek turns his attention to the main fray with a grim smile.</p><p>Yasha isn’t moving. It takes Essek precious moments to realize that Haste has dropped, by which time Beau is already looking frantically over her shoulder.</p><p>“Caleb’s gone, keep them off of him!” she yells.</p><p>Essek looks back. Caleb is swaying, hands limp at his side, staring past the soldiers approaching him. Caduceus begins to move towards him. Too far away. Essek drops his concentration on the Faerie Fire, pulls up a Wall of Force around Caleb instead.</p><p>“What happened to him?” he yells.</p><p>“Just—” Beau sweeps the feet out from under one of the soldiers and cracks down onto his sternum with her knee. “—keep him out of it, he’ll be fine in a minute!”</p><p>Caduceus draws Essek into the comparative safety of Spirit Guardians, and the scourger goes invisible again. Fjord tries casting Faerie Fire and some of it clings to an invisible figure for only a moment before the scourger dives away, unaffected this time around. Beau takes out another soldier, and Jester fires a pink bolt at one of the Fireball survivors. Essek fumbles for the small black marble he has in a pocket.</p><p>Then the scourger reappears in front of him, with sharp eyes and a sharper knife.</p><p>Her strike breaks through his Shield without slowing, and Essek knows instinctively that this is a deadly blow. Right before it lands, Caduceus glances back and snaps his fingers, and the knife glances off a rib and sinks into his torso a few inches lower than what she was aiming for.</p><p>Later he will wonder if the cleric's slight rearranging of the general state of reality is a dunamatic ability or just divine intervention, but in the moment his only thought is fear and pain and his tenuous connection to the Wall of Force. The scourger draws the blade back to strike again, then jerks and slumps forward, knocking Essek down with her, a crossbow bolt embedded at the base of her skull. He rolls the body off and sits vaguely upright, each gasp sending a new shock of pain through his body. He throws down a Gravity Sinkhole to take care of a couple of the remaining soldiers, then presses his hands against the stab wound. Can't bleed out just yet. He has to maintain his concentration, keep them away from Caleb. Everything narrows to just that connection. </p><p>He doesn't realize the fight has ended until Fjord is propping him up and laying a hand over Essek’s. The pain recedes and breathing becomes easier.</p><p>“Thank you, Fjord.”</p><p>“No problem. Caduceus can probably do more than that in a bit. You can drop the invisible wa—”</p><p>“Drop the fucking spell, Essek!” Veth yells near where Caleb is, shriller than usual. He obliges, and watches as the halfling checks over the still-unresponsive wizard. Everyone else seems to be giving Caleb space, apparently familiar with this sort of occurrence. When he gains enough of his faculties to move, Veth guides him over to sit by a tree with Beau, and then busies herself with reclaiming crossbow bolts from corpses.</p><p>Essek’s first attempt to stand has his body screaming at him with sickening certainty that he should not be moving right now. He levitates the second time, and drifts over to sit across from Beau.</p><p>“Hey,” she says, nodding as he sets himself down gingerly. “Good job.”</p><p>Essek hums in response, examining his shirt with shaking fingers. Feels wet. Looks dry. Right. He's disguised. He ends the spell, revealing the extent of the blood.</p><p>“Fuck, Essek. <em> Shit,” </em> Beau curses, so loudly that even Caleb looks at him. “Hey Caddy, you got any more healing spells?”</p><p>Caduceus looks up from whatever he's casting near Yasha, who apparently took quite the beating after Haste dropped. “In the middle of one now. Can you wait another eight minutes?”</p><p>“Yes,” Essek says. Beau gives him a dubious stare. “Don't look at me like that,” he mumbles. “I've had worse.” The only time he's had it worse was in the Dungeon of Penance, but he doesn't need to tell her that.</p><p>“Hey Jes? Can we get a little Cure Wounds so Essek doesn't fall over before Caduceus finishes his spell?”</p><p>“Sure!” The tiefling skips over, plops down next to him. Mutters something along the lines of <em> hey Traveler, how about we make Essek a bit less dying of blood loss? </em> and taps him on the shoulder. A wave of cool energy washes over him. Feels different than Fjord's healing, or Caduceus'. Part of him is interested from a purely academic angle, but mostly he's just relieved that it stops the dull throbbing under his ribs.</p><p>His hands are still shaking badly enough that his first attempt to cast Prestidigitation fails, and that frightens him enough that his second attempt is worse, jerky and imprecise. Essek has to take a few deep breaths. Smooths his hands along the clean part of his pants. Tries again, and the blood dries and flakes away from his shirt, leaving it unstained, although still with a sizable hole in it.</p><p>“You want me to mend that for you? It's a really nice shirt,” Jester says, and he nods. Essek finds himself leaning against her shoulder as she begins to cast Mending. It’s something he wouldn't normally do, but the contact is nice. He's tired and it was a bad fight and it's nice. He watches the world though half-lidded eyes, Veth returning to the group, Fjord helping Yasha limp over to the shade. Caleb is looking at him. Essek thinks maybe he hasn't entirely recovered from whatever overtook him in the fight, but he's looking at Essek and Essek looks back, too drained to feel self-conscious.</p><p>Caduceus finishes the Prayer of Healing, and looks over the bodies with a strange look as the group moves away from the scene. He normally does something with them, a cantrip to speed up decomposition, but the group had decided early on that it was too distinctive a mark, potentially letting the Assembly connect the dots too quickly. When they've put enough distance between them and the scene of battle, they find a secluded area in the woods and Caleb begins to summon the mansion. </p><p>Essek has been watching the rest of the Nein to gauge their reaction to Caleb's mental state. They're treating him gently, giving him space, not interrogating. This has very obviously happened before, though they seem shaken enough that he suspects it has never resulted in quite as much danger as today.</p><p>He's paying so much attention to how they're interacting with Caleb that it takes him a while to notice the difference in how they're treating him. It's not something he can explain, exactly. Veth turning her back to him, relaxed. Jester chatting with Fjord and Caduceus, not trying to rope him into the conversation. Beau casually punching him on the shoulder as he steps into the mansion, chimes jingling. He feels less like a guest they're hosting, and more like...like they are used to him? Trusted. He feels trusted.</p><p>Whatever warm glow that kindles within him withers as he takes better stock of the mansion. It's different. Or rather, it <em> isn't </em> different. No cat tree in the front entrance, no tiny lewd patterns along the door frames. The illogical part of his brain that's increasingly prone to panicking says they are back in the original house in Xhorhas. He looks back at the others, who have obviously noticed the difference as well. They don't seem terribly perturbed. Caleb is already moving towards the kitchen, and with a scattering of shrugs the rest trail behind.</p><p>Dinner is awkward precisely because everyone is trying to not make it awkward. Jester is too enthusiastic. Caleb is sandwiched between Veth and Beau, both sitting so close that it might as well count as a hug. He chimes in here and there, with a joke that's just self-deprecating enough to be funny without being concerning. Everyone tries very hard to not be concerned anyway.</p><p>“Hey, does anyone want to play cards?” Jester asks as they finish eating.</p><p>“How about poker?” Fjord suggests.</p><p>“You always win, though, that’s no fun. Hey Caleb, is there anything you want to play?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I’m exhausted enough that I would lose terribly, regardless of the game. I would be retiring for the evening, if not for the fact that it isn’t evening yet.”</p><p>“What about Uno?” Jester asks. “It’s not hard to play at all, and I promise not to tip the table over this time.”</p><p>“You could take a bath,” Essek suggests. “That seems to be the solution here for anything from recent undeath to minor headaches, surely it would cure the need to pass some time.”</p><p>“If that is the case, shouldn't you be the one in the tub, or Yasha? You took quite a lot more damage than a skinned knee and some bruises,” Caleb counters.</p><p>“I don't see why this has to be an either or situation,” Essek says. “There <em> are </em> two tubs.”</p><p>Caleb winces. “Ah, about that…”</p><p>This is how Caleb, Essek, and Yasha end up sitting in a hot tub together. </p><p>Essek isn't sure if Yasha's presence makes it more or less awkward. She genuinely doesn’t seem to notice the undercurrent of sexual tension between the two naked wizards, possibly because she’s expending all of her mental energy on acting casual with Essek in the room.</p><p>“Do you think you will find some sort of peace at the end of this?” she asks Caleb after a minute or so.</p><p>“Hm. No. I think I will be less frightened, both that my past will ruin me or that the same thing will keep happening to others. But not the kind of peace you are talking about.”</p><p>They lapse into silence after that, but somehow Essek feels like he is eavesdropping on their peace and quiet. He excuses himself from the room as soon as reasonable.</p><p>Even the study is a perfect picture of the original house's, no couch, no grooves in the floor, a smaller table. For the first time in a while—for the first time since he was resurrected—he has to resist the urge to float. It feels uncannily like they are still in Xhorhas, and maybe that's the point? </p><p>Essek dithers uncertainly until Caleb shows up. He nods the barest acknowledgement of Essek’s presence before continuing past. Essek deliberates a moment longer before following him into the bedroom. </p><p>It's different, presumably what his room actually looks like. The cat statues are still there. The bed is smaller. Caleb has already stripped off the light chain shirt he wears, is in the process of untying his boots. He shucks those off, then his trousers, leaving just the underclothes, and then flops into the bed, curled up on the side Essek normally sleeps on, facing away.</p><p>Essek doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to fix this, suspects there isn't a way it can be fixed. “Would you mind telling me what set that off during the fight?” he asks gently. “The others seem to be aware already.”</p><p>“Fire. Screams,” Caleb mutters, still turned away.</p><p>Essek doesn't ask why he still uses fire if it causes him psychological distress. There’s no point when he already knows the answer. Every time Essek casts a spell that redirects gravity, reduces it, strengthens it—something he is good at, something he is used to—part of him remembers his last moments, frantically trying to calculate the length of the drop, body mass, whether he would be slowly strangled to death or if the fall would be enough to end things quickly. </p><p>Gravity is a useful force, and it is also the one that killed him. </p><p>Essek sits down on the wrong side of the bed, takes off his shoes, prestidigitates away any dust or grime he'd missed earlier. Lies down. “Can I touch you?” he asks.</p><p>“Ja.”</p><p>He reaches out, rests his hand between Caleb's shoulder blades. He can feel him breathing this way, a single hitch before continuing on smooth and even.</p><p>Eventually, Caleb says, “You barely know anything about my past.”</p><p>“No, I suppose not. None of the specifics, at least,” Essek says. After a moment he adds, “I do know you’ve done something terrible. Something a decent person wouldn't dream of doing, and you did it anyway, because your convictions were stronger than moral decency. Probably you only regretted it after it was too late to take back.”</p><p>Caleb has stopped breathing. After several seconds he looks over his shoulder, unfurls slightly, a human question mark.</p><p>“You told me to trust my friend's judgement,” Essek says by way of explanation. “And you judged what<em> I </em> did and <em> empathized. </em>It stands to reason that your hands are stained red as well. And the fact that you still have hope for me means I have hope for you, whatever you've done.”</p><p>Caleb reaches around to remove Essek's hand, so that he can roll onto his back. He doesn’t let go after he does. Essek doesn’t pull his hand away. Caleb doesn’t say <em> thank you. </em>They both know he doesn’t really need to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Do you think he seems happier this way?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: Essek figures out his footing working alongside the Mighty Nein.</p>
<p>this chapter: The figurative and literal distance between Caleb and Essek keeps getting shorter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Looking for anything in particular?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek looks up at the man behind the counter. “No, just admiring the cakes.” He'd actually been watching the building across the street in the shiny reflection of a metal tray, but the cakes do happen to be very well-decorated. It's as good an excuse as anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ahhh, yes. My daughter-in-law does those, she’s very artistic. Just let me know if you need anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm. I’ll do that. Actually, do you have any cupcakes?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. Vanilla, chocolate? We have some flavored with rose water or saffron as well, if you like unusual flavors and are willing to pay a little more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm. A saffron cupcake sounds interesting, I'll try one of those.” Essek has no idea what saffron tastes like, but the baker nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured you'd go for those. You seem like the well-traveled type. Are you from Marquet? The accent sounds familiar.” The man sets a yellow-tinted cupcake on a piece of brown paper and slides it across the counter. “Six copper.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Port Damali, but my mother is Marquesian,” Essek says, digging through his pockets for the correct change. It's a backstory Fjord recommended, not because he's any better at a Port Damali accent, but because no one here will be familiar enough with a Port Damali accent to notice that his is awful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! I had a friend that moved there, at the start of all this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The war. His brother got caught up in the thick of it, and he decided it was a good idea to leave the country before the king decided a draft was necessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. Well, it is a fine city to move to, war or not.” Essek sets the coins down and takes his cupcake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, it ended a lot faster than any of us thought it would, but hopefully he's enjoying the Menagerie Coast anyway. Only the gods know if things will start back up again, but I hope not. Lost my youngest up at Ashguard.” The baker picks up the coins one by one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry for your loss,” Essek says, and finds that he means it. Fuck. When did that happen?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. And have a nice day,” the man tacks on as an afterthought. Essek turns to look across the street and eats his cupcake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's far too sweet. He suspects the only reason he'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d liked the black moss one is that he'd only been alive for two hours and had forgotten what good taste was. Or maybe his appetite is currently affected by the pit of guilt forming in his gut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not immune to regret. He's even used to it by now. There'd been a point where the Nein had disappeared for longer than usual, three weeks or so, where Essek had realized that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> them, terribly, and worse yet, it was because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked them.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And from there everything had devolved, because he was the one they were looking for, the one who had betrayed the Dynasty and kindled the war they were striving so ardently to stop. He'd been utterly convinced they would hate him the moment they learned the truth, and he would die because his only friends would (rightfully, fuck, they’d had </span>
  <em>
    <span>every reason</span>
  </em>
  <span> to) turn him in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It turns out that was not the case, but leave it to Essek to invent entirely new ways to mentally torture himself after the previous one stopped being adequate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek summons his familiar as subtly as he can, just has her skitter up his sleeve where he can feel her but she can't be seen. He can't be distracted by a brand new guilt spiral at the moment. There's work to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to go. What's wrong?” Beau asks as soon as the two of them reconvene.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing to do with the mission.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a while he genuinely thinks she's going to let him go without questioning it. But as soon as they're back in the Xhorhaus 2.0, she spins around and asks, “Seriously though. What happened? You look way more constipated than usual, man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek sighs. “Nothing. Just...moral quandaries.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brave new world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha. You know, I never thought to try </span>
  <em>
    <span>preventing</span>
  </em>
  <span> the war. I just assumed it was inevitable and the only options were to let it happen naturally or risk igniting it early for personal gain. For all my ambition, I never considered stopping it a worthy thing to accomplish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. I don’t wanna minimize your personal growth or whatever, but also that's the stupidest shit I've ever heard you say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you?” They wander towards the kitchen as they speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay though, how would you have prevented the war? What would your ambitious genius wizard brain have done, now that you've got hindsight on your side?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek starts to speak, pauses as he really considers the scenario. Frowns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh, yeah, that's what I thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Way</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier said than done. I hate to admit you were right about anything, but it really was gonna happen eventually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...how do we prevent it from happening again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beau sighs, shrugs. “Fuck if I know. If we actually get the new beacon that's a start, but it's not gonna be enough to solve everything. I don't know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose our only option is to try our best and hope that it’s sufficient.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beau stuffs her hands into her pockets. “Yeah. Sure.” She clears her throat. “Hey, do you remember anything from when we brought you back? There was a whole ritual thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek sits at one of the tables. One of the ghostly servants brings over a plate of miscellaneous food and sets it next to him. He starts to tear apart a piece of bread, almost absentmindedly. He never used to be someone who needed to keep his hands busy when he’s anxious, but so many things have changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...perhaps. I've avoided thinking too much about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think you remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's the vague impression of Jester chatting, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we've missed you a lot and it would be nice if we could hang out again,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the ghost of something against his forehead and the buzz of magic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you are not done. We are not done.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jester talked for a while. Caleb cast a spell. And then I was back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beau slumps into a chair. “Okay. Cool, cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you ask?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh. Because after Caleb did his thing, I went and ended up just lying a ton. It didn't look like it helped. So. Sorry about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you apologizing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She throws her hands in the air. “We were trying to like, convince you to come back to </span>
  <em>
    <span>life,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I couldn't think of anything genuine. I just spun some bullshit about needing your help because the Dynasty kicked us out and we had some magical emergency that was gonna get us killed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I’d heard it, it likely would have worked. You're a very good liar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that's the problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek sighs. “Beau. I know I'm not the best person to ask about doing morally questionable things for the greater good, but at the very least</span>
  <em>
    <span> I'm</span>
  </em>
  <span> not upset. You have my full permission to lie to me if you're trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>save my life.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beau's face twists into something complicated before settling on a grumpy scowl.  “Right. Well. We should get everyone together and discuss what we got.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The missive Beau obtained is coded, and even with Comprehend Languages it reads as nonsense. It ends up taking the combined efforts of her, Veth, Caleb, and Essek to unravel it, digging through other communications they've intercepted for clues, throwing ideas back and forth, scribbling notes on scratch paper, arguing about the connotations of certain words in Elvish. At one point Veth hops onto the table to rearrange pages by source. They have to break for dinner, but then it's right back to work, and by midnight, they have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lead,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the most solid information they've found about the whereabouts of the new beacon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Essek can't imagine being happier than this. Perhaps there is something better than the excitement of a challenge, collaboration with talented friends, the thrill of victory within their grasp, but if so he cannot fathom it. Caleb nudges his shoulder, grinning, and Essek grins back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Caleb’s smile grows wider, like this is an inside joke that the others haven’t noticed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them have been playing a game of chicken, testing the boundaries of what intimacies they can be afforded before they need to actually <em>talk</em> about this. There will reach a point where one of them is going to have to say,</span>
  <em>
    <span> I love you, and not the same way I love the others.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But for now: shared glances, casually brushing hair behind an ear, refilling an inkwell before the other even notices it is about to run dry, a quick squeeze of the hand before letting go, leaning shoulder against shoulder while collaborating on which spells to prepare for the day, lingering eye contact, preventing each other’s spells from being countered in combat, sleeping in the same bed without minding where errant limbs end up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t guess at Caleb’s hesitation, but Essek is waiting for a moment when there’s breathing room, when there’s at least some certainty that neither of them will die tomorrow or the next day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a trite saying about whether it’s better to lose love or to never have it in the first place, the supposedly obvious moral being that </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is better to love. Essek isn’t sure where he stands on the matter. He has feared loss and weathered deprivation. The former was terrible, and the latter only terrible in hindsight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two nights before they are (theoretically) going to murder Ikithon, frame DeRogna, and have Daleth arrested, Essek asks, “Do you miss it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss what?” Caleb mumbles, looking in the general direction of Essek’s face but failing to truly focus. Humans. No darkvision. Essek turns to look up at the ceiling, because it feels fairer that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose ‘missing’ isn’t quite the right word. Do you ever want to go back to the way you were, even though you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>miss it? Whoever you were that you could look at me and see a reflection instead of a monster.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen a monster in many mirrors. I’m not sure if ‘instead of’ is so accurate.” Then Caleb is silent for a very long time, long enough that Essek has to resist the urge to check if he’s fallen asleep. “Ja,” he finally says, hushed. “Sometimes. It was simpler.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Simpler. Yes.” He takes a breath. Holds it. Continues, “I find myself angry at myself for even thinking about it. I was too miserable to even comprehend that I was miserable, completely ignorant of the scope of the damage I’d caused. How hypocritical of me, to want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not understand.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But there was less to think about. Things that I could cast aside as pointless distractions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb hums. “Black and white makes everything less complicated. As long as you have utter conviction that you are correct, you can excuse the darkest shades of gray in your own actions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.” A realization comes to him, and he laughs. “And you don’t realize what you’re missing until someone brings a lantern along and reveals the orange stripes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolls to face Caleb once more. “In my cell. It was dark there, no color. I’d spent who knows how long trying to figure out if there was a normal spider or if they were spying on me. And then someone brought some light, just for a moment, and that was enough for me to realize it was your </span>
  <em>
    <span>cat.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. I wasn’t sure you noticed him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried not to stare in case anyone else was watching me, but yes. Just his presence—I didn’t know if you were watching at any given moment, I couldn’t communicate, but—thank you. I don’t know how to explain how much it meant, just having your familiar there. Thank you.” His voice breaks on the last word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb reaches out blindly, his hand landing on Essek’s shoulder. “It was no trouble. I’m glad it helped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek laughs. “Don’t lie. I helped build and maintain the wards there. I’m quite certain it was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>enormous</span>
  </em>
  <span> amount of trouble for something that small. I still have no idea how you got Frumpkin in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm. A story for another time, though. You need to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” According to Caleb, Essek spends half the night plagued by restlessness and nightmares. He's never had to deal with dreams before, and he's rather glad he doesn't remember any of them. He has a very good guess as to what they're about. It certainly explains why he never feels particularly well-rested in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Essek has even resorted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>naps</span>
  </em>
  <span> over the past week, which mostly means that he lies on the couch in the study in the middle of the day, pretending to sleep with the hope that he actually falls unconscious. It's not exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>efficient,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but it's easier to fall asleep when he can hear Jester humming to herself upstairs, Fjord and Yasha talking quietly in the direction of the kitchen, the soft ringing of chimes as someone enters the Xhorhaus 2.0. Two distinct sets of footsteps, one long and even, the other so quiet he can barely make them out. Caleb and Veth, probably? They haven't been gone for long, but it certainly isn't Caduceus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His theory proves right a moment later when there's the sound of the door clicking ajar, and Caleb's voice, low and quiet. “Veth, wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Veth says, loud enough that the human immediately shushes her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When we left, Essek was napping in there. Let's go up to the war room, maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door clicks shut. “He's an elf, I thought they don't need sleep?” she grumbles, voice moving away from the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb's response is too quiet to make out, but Veth's resulting shriek is entirely audible. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What—?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Interest piqued, Essek summons his familiar and sends her skittering under the door so he can keep listening. What he sees is Caleb holding his hand over Veth's mouth, eyes trained on the door. Up, not at the ground, but Essek commands his familiar to stay still, peeking just around the frame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Caleb drags Veth further away, heading towards the stairs. Essek sends Alsuzu after them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he hasn't been sleeping well?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know that?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Veth hisses as she follows Caleb up the steps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He's been sleeping at night instead of trancing, and he doesn't fall asleep easily. He might be embarrassed if I pointed it out directly, but I suspect he's afraid of the dark.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he can see better than any of us can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb holds up a finger. “Let me rephrase. I suspect he is afraid of </span>
  <em>
    <span>being alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the dark.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Now that's just sad instead of funny.” Veth pauses at the doorway of the war room. “But you didn't answer my question,</span>
  <em>
    <span> how the fuck do you know that?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I had Frumpkin keeping an eye on him the first night back. He didn't stay in bed, I invited him into the study, and—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you two been fucking this entire time?!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nein,</span>
  </em>
  <span> no, no. He fell asleep in the chair while I was working, Veth. No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. So that's why there’s a couch there?” Veth steps into the room, and Essek sends his familiar to get a better look as she climbs onto a chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ja.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you just hang around until he falls asleep? Are you getting enough sleep that way? Can't you just give him Frumpkin or something?” She pauses for a moment, then sits bolt upright. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Where did he sleep that day where you made a regular copy of the house?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. He. I. I had been—for a while, I had—” Caleb stammers, slowly turning a very distinct shade of red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Caleb Widogast.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Caleb—Caleb </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bren Aldric Ermendrud</span>
  </em>
  <span> Widogast. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I cannot believe—”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She’s progressed to standing on her chair, one finger pointed at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We aren’t doing anything! We are just falling asleep in the same bedroom, it’s not whatever you’re thinking,” Caleb says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Augh!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> she screeches, throwing her hands in the air. “That's</span>
  <em>
    <span> worse!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that worse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's all of the melodramatic pining bullshit from one of Jester's books and you aren't even getting laid! How is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>worse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you—please be quieter? I don't really want the rest of the group to hear about this. It isn’t anything at the moment, and they would—” He gestures at her stance.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “—react.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veth flops back down into her seat. “I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you, that's all. Essek is very handsome and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very sketchy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If he's seduced you...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Caleb drops his face into his hands. “He has not seduced me. We just enjoy each other's company—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And he's very handsome.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ja, and he's very handsome. And less sketchy than he used to be, so don't give me that look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Veth visibly tries and fails to school her facial expression into something neutral. “I know, but so much of the change has just been over the last few weeks. Before, he was all</span>
  <em>
    <span> I'm so smart and only kind of feel bad for starting a war</span>
  </em>
  <span> and now he's all—” She waves a hand around. “—better. What if he regresses suddenly and becomes even more evil?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He won't, Veth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But how do we know that? He seems to feel more regret when thinking he's innocent than thinking he's guilty. That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What if we finish the plan and he has another change of heart </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span> to how he started, after we've proven he’s innocent? I'm just worried.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He won't. And I don't care if he does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a hard look. “Caleb. You care.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ja, okay, I do, but not—you can't just love someone for one potential version of them, it doesn't happen like that. You want them to change for the better </span>
  <em>
    <span>because</span>
  </em>
  <span> you love them, not the other way around.” Caleb’s face is intense, grim. Essek finds his eyes stinging, and he blinks blindly at the ceiling to clear them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that,” Veth says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We cannot leave this unfinished. We owe him better than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that. I’m just...worried,” Veth says again. Then, very softly, “Do you think he seems happier this way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ja,” Caleb says, almost as quiet. “I worry that we will ruin him.” Then he steps around the table and Essek dismisses Alsuzu before he can see her, heart pounding in his chest, uncertain for more reasons than one.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>does it count as a slow burn if the author summarizes and time-skips their way through weeks of what <em>should</em> be slow burn because they don't want to write out any specifics of the taking-down-a-corrupt-institution B plot?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Essek of no den</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: The figurative and literal distance between Caleb and Essek keeps getting shorter.</p><p>this chapter: The Mighty Nein see how different many ways they can confound the Bright Queen in one hour.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The beacon pulses gently on the dining room table. Essek stares into it, wondering who the fuck he even <em> is </em> if he doesn’t want this anymore.</p><p>Or perhaps it’s that he still wants it, but he wants other things<em> more. </em> Being surrounded by friends who don’t care about what den he belongs to or what connections he has. Knowing that if—when—he slips up, they will be there, not to descend like vultures but to catch him before he falls. Card games where the main goal seems to be cheating without getting caught. An unlonely bed. A couple more years of peace. Maybe unraveling the secrets of the universe was never going to fill the void in his chest. Understanding everything turns out to be far less valuable than being <em> understood. </em></p><p>“If you wanna make staring into that thing way more fun, my offer still stands,” Beau says as she walks back into the room.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Beau pauses, shakes her head. “Nevermind. Remembering a conversation with someone else. Hey, what was that spell that had everyone throwing shit back and forth all at once? Whatever he cast at Jester.”</p><p>Essek frowns and finally glances away from the beacon. “Are you familiar with Feeblemind?”</p><p>There had been a moment early on in the fight where Fjord had been downed by a lucky shot, Jester dashing over to heal him, and Ikithon had pointed a finger at her. The words he’d muttered had triggered every warning instinct Essek had in him, and he’d thrown out the most powerful counter he could muster before he’d even recognized the spell.</p><p>Even as his echo countered Ikithon's own Counterspell, Essek had realized that it was pointless. Fjord wasn't conscious, which meant that the elven scourger would counter his echo, and Caleb would counter her, and the second scourger would counter him in return. A simple game of numbers, playing out in his head the moment before it had happened.</p><p>And indeed, the exchange had happened exactly in that order. And then Veth had stepped out from behind a column to cast a final Counterspell. Essek wasn't even aware she knew the spell, and if he'd had the time he would've taken a moment to offer thanks to any god that was listening, religious conniptions aside. As it was, however, every arcane caster in the room had just expended a fair deal of energy doing nothing, and Essek was too busy throwing a Slow spell down before they could react again.</p><p>“No, but it sounds nasty.”</p><p>“Indeed. I've only seen the effects once, but it's one of the best ways to shut down a spellcaster, especially if they aren't a wizard. It's a brute-force attack on the intellect. If it succeeds, it erases an individual's intelligence and force of personality, speech, the ability to cast spells.” Things could have been very different, if there were one fewer of them. Essek looks away from the Beacon. He doesn't want to know about that timeline.</p><p>“It's not—that has to be temporary, right?”</p><p>“If you have access to Greater Restoration? Yes. Otherwise, the only chance at a cure is time and a great deal of luck on top of that.”</p><p>“Damn.”</p><p>“It's not the cruelest way to take a caster out of commission, but it's near the top of the list.”</p><p>“Wait, there's something <em> worse </em> than turning someone's mind to mush? Wizards shouldn't be left alone if that's the kind of thing you invent in your free time.”</p><p>“I may have to concur on that point, but what I was referring to doesn't require magic at all. You can just gag them, remove their fingers, and break every remaining bone in their hands and wrists.” </p><p>Perhaps Essek's tone is too blasé, because Beau winces. “Sorry man.”</p><p>“At least they needed to interrogate me. I could've lost my tongue, too.”</p><p>“I don't know if you realize, but that doesn't make things sound <em> better.” </em></p><p>“I know.” Now his voice is too sharp. Gentler, he adds, “It's not always easy, to balance being grateful that something wasn't worse with acknowledging that it was still horrible.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beau says, uncharacteristically soft. “I get that. You know that you didn't deserve it, right?”</p><p>“Mm. It <em> was </em> an efficient way to neutralize a dangerously immoral wizard who’d committed treason in his reckless pursuit of knowledge.”</p><p>“Hey. You didn’t <em> deserve </em>it. Just because you're a shitty person that's hard to deal with doesn't mean people are allowed to torture you into submission. They could've found another way.” </p><p>“If you use morally questionable methods to neutralize an evil, is that an evil act or a good one?”</p><p>“If you could've used better methods instead, it is still <em> absolutely </em> fucking evil.” Beau throws her hands in the air. “Why the fuck do I keep ending up in like, existential conversations about morality with you? Do you do this with everyone?”</p><p>“Not everyone, no.”</p><p>“Okay, then why me? Do I look like a philosopher to you? Is there something wrong with my face?”</p><p>Essek shakes his head. “No, just...I can trust you not to soften a blow.”</p><p>“So it’s because I'm an asshole.”</p><p>“You care about accountability more than hurt feelings. It's difficult to have a conversation about my past actions if the other party is just going to reassure me that I'm fine<em> now, </em>or—or simplify everything into a tree metaphor.”</p><p>“Huh. Okay, point taken. Still, you—”</p><p>“Are you two ready to go soon?” Fjord asks, peeking into the room. “We were about to contact the Bright Queen, I’m not sure if you wanted to give some input.”</p><p>The group’s haphazard attempt at planning out a Sending ends up falling apart anyway, as Jester gets impatient halfway through the conversation and just casts the spell. “Hey Bright Queen, it's Jester. We have something really important we need to meet with you about and I don't think you want to wait—” Fjord's hasty countdown ends, and Jester casts the spell again. “You really don't want to wait a long time for this one, it's <em> real </em> good. Can we meet you soon? Preferably <em> really </em> soon.”</p><p>There’s a pause while Jester waits for a response. Then, “She says we can meet her in half an hour! Also, she totally sounded like she was out of breath, I bet she was—”</p><p><em> “No,” </em> Essek interjects. “Do not finish that sentence. Absolutely not.” Jester just waggles her eyebrows at him. The sheer indignity does help with his nerves, strangely. </p><p>They pack up their things as quickly as reasonable. Jester places the beacon in her bag and heads out the door. Beau and Fjord make a quick attempt at making themselves look presentable before exiting. Yasha, Veth, and Caleb leave, and then it is just Caduceus, finishing his cup of tea, and Essek.</p><p>He figures it’s worth taking one last circuit of the Xhorhaus 2.0, on the slight chance that he’ll never see these rooms again. Then he casts Invisibility on himself and steps outside, where the rest have gathered around Caleb's almost-complete circle. From this point forward, none of the others can openly interact with him, in case they are being watched.</p><p>“Are we ready?” Caleb asks, looking at the rest of the Nein as if the question was directed towards them. Essek taps him once on the shoulder to affirm, and the others nod, playing along. He finishes the circle. Everyone steps in, reappearing at the teleportation circle in Rosohna. </p><p>Essek is terrified.</p><p>Hypothetically, no one will be able to see him via divination magic, and any noise he makes will be disregarded since he's walking in the middle of the Nein. It is a good plan, and one that could be completely ruined if anyone has a nonmagical source of blindsight. </p><p>But no one stops them as they head to the meeting chamber. The Bright Queen is there, along with the Dusk Captain and a smattering of representatives from various dens. He can remember a time where he stood among them, when he was comfortable and in control here, looking down at a motley crew of foreigners who represented nothing but danger for him, the red-haired human holding up the reclaimed beacon like a threat. And now the world has been rearranged, and he is the one who stands apart in a place that has no love for him, if it ever did.</p><p>Logically, he’s quite certain that they will not execute him again—they're bringing the Dynasty a priceless religious artifact, he has allies in good standing to vouch for him, he literally didn’t commit the crime he was executed for—but that doesn't make him feel any less like history is about to repeat itself. At least for now he is surrounded by friends, people he loves. Though he’s never told them that out loud, has he? Essek has to fight the sudden impulse to do so before it’s too late, even if it will betray his presence.</p><p>“Mighty Nein,” the Bright Queen says, inclining her head. “What news brings you here with such urgency?”</p><p>“Um,” Jester says, looking at the others and sliding her bag off one shoulder. “Should we start small, or...?”</p><p>Fjord makes a vague gesture. “Probably should've discussed that earlier, right. Maybe we cut right to the chase this time around? Do you want to...?” he asks Caleb, waving at the haversack.</p><p>“Once was more than enough for me. Someone else can do it, now.”</p><p>“I call dibs!” Veth yells, but Beau is closer.</p><p>“Surprise,” she says, reaching inside the bag and pulling the beacon out with lazy grace. The room is sufficiently surprised. Someone drops a goblet. Gasps echo through the chamber. The Bright Queen's eyebrows just about disappear into her helmet. There’s a cacophony of questions, starting as murmurs and growing to a clamor—<em> has a beacon disappeared without anyone being informed, is it a fake, where did it come from </em>—which the Bright Queen cuts off with a wave. Then: silence, and the gentle pulsing of a new beacon. </p><p>“How?” Leylas finally asks, stepping forward.</p><p>Beau moves to meet her, hands off the beacon like it's a box of old books instead of a powerful artifact of unparalleled cultural significance. “It's a long story, but essentially we pursued a hunch and it led to another beacon. When we first met with King Bertrand to negotiate peace talks, representatives from the Assembly claimed they'd gotten the beacon from a dig site in Pride's Call. We all knew that was a lie, obviously, but I looked into it just in case, and we did find reports of something being uncovered that did kinda match the description.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “When we pursued that lead, we ran into complications pretty much immediately—missing records, people dying or disappearing when they tried to help us investigate, that kind of thing. We figured that the Assembly was covering up the existence of a new beacon, which would explain why they were so willing to give the old one up. We also had reason to believe they still had informants in the Dynasty, which is why we decided to work independently on this matter to avoid alerting them.”</p><p>“This was held by the Cerberus Assembly?”</p><p>“A handful of them, yeah. Most of them seemed to be unaware, but Ikithon, DeRogna, and Daleth were working together to keep it hidden. We’ve spent the last couple weeks in the Empire, tracking down its exact location. We had help—the Cobalt Soul and another important ally were essential to finding it and staying alive in the process.”</p><p>“Then they have our deepest gratitude, as do you all.”</p><p>Beau scratches the back of her head, her impressively professional veneer cracking as she turns to glance at Fjord. “Right. Uh. So, I mentioned it was a long story, right?”</p><p>The Bright Queen raises a brow almost imperceptibly, then hands the beacon to the Dusk Captain, muttering a short request in Undercommon—from what Essek can hear, something to do with placing it in a safe location. Quana nods, then singles out several individuals to exit the chamber with her.</p><p>Then she turns back to the Nein. “I struggle to imagine a story so excessive that it overshadows the discovery of another fragment of the Luxon. What exactly is causing you to hesitate?”</p><p>Fjord clears his throat. “We’re sorry to skirt around the issue, but this is a bit of a delicate and <em> unusual </em> situation, and we ask that you reserve judgement until we can properly explain ourselves. You’ve given us a great deal of trust in our position here, and we appreciate that. We don’t want to give the impression that we were trying to undermine your authority, but another related matter came up that required some investigation before we brought our findings to you, and, well. What we found is pretty unbelievable if you don’t know the context.”</p><p>“Then please, provide that context. You have certainly given enough reason for us to listen.”</p><p>Fjord hesitates, and Jester lets out a long sigh. “You<em> know,” </em> she says, “I feel like this would go a <em> lot </em> faster if one of us just went under a Zone of Truth or something so you know we’re not lying. I can cast it, but maybe you’d want somebody else to do it on me?”</p><p>This is not part of the plan. The only thing that is keeping Essek from hyperventilating is that none of the Nein seem overly nervous.</p><p>The Bright Queen looks to the only cleric of the Luxon currently in the room. He clears his throat. “I can, if that would make this...easier.”</p><p>Jester skips forward to the center of the room and does some remarkably confident jazz hands for someone presumably about to try lying her way through a Zone of Truth. “Cool, hit me up.”</p><p>Jester wiggles her tail as the spell takes hold. The Luxon cleric nods in affirmation, and she lets out a long breath. </p><p>“Ohhhkay. Sooooo, we <em>knew</em> that the Cerberus Assembly stole the beacons from the very beginning, right? Like, back when we got it after your dudes tried to get it, we saw fancy wizards flying around after them, and Caleb totally recognized one of them. But we didn’t really know what we could do about it back then? Because they were super powerful and no one would believe us, probably. And then we found out Yeza was hired by some of the Assembly to do alchemy stuff with it before he got taken back here, and we had this tunnel aaallll the way to Xhorhas, right? So we were like, shit, we have to fix all of this, and <em>thennn</em> we basically <em>did,</em> basically. And pretty much the whole time we were trying to end the war, Caleb was saying, ‘oh hey, now we have more help and we can do something about the Assembly’ but also there was a lot of other really important stuff we were doing and we didn’t have any <em>proof </em>proof, so we had to wait until the war was over, and then be really careful because we wanted it to <em>stay </em>over. Like, if we said, ‘hey they might have another beacon’ and it turned out we were wrong, that would be super bad. So Essek—” She breaks off, her face falling for a moment.</p><p>He knows she must be taking a moment to choose her words carefully. It’s always a little bit of an act with Jester. But the waver in her voice still <em> hurts. </em></p><p>“We were <em> really </em> upset when we found out he’d been working with the Assembly the whole time. He was our <em> friend, </em> he was <em> helping </em> us...but he’d also been lying <em> so </em>much, about basically starting a war and working with our enemies and everything.”</p><p>She pauses, scuffing the heel of her boot against the floor. “The timing of things felt kinda weird, though? Like, just in the month before he got caught, we were getting <em> real </em> close to getting dirt on everyone in the Assembly who was responsible. And Essek was helping us with that, like, a lot. Then, bam, there’s proof that he’s evil and he gets executed, and just by <em> coincidence </em> we lost a ton of progress on our mission and basically had to start over. We didn’t have any proof that the Assembly found out he was helping us, but it <em> felt </em>like that was what happened? Because like Beau said, everyone who tried helping us with this had bad stuff happen to them.</p><p><em> “Also, </em> it really <em> really </em> felt like Essek didn’t want to be working with them at <em> all. </em> Obviously he <em> did </em> , there was a bunch of evidence and everything. But then why was he risking his life trying to help us? So the options were that, you know, he <em> did </em> want to work with them and he’d just been leading us along and then faked his death somehow, ooorrrr maybe he’d changed his mind at some point and didn’t <em> want </em> to work with them anymore but they were like ‘do it or we’ll expose you and you’ll die’ and so he couldn’t stop. And the faking his death thing seemed super unlikely, but we <em> did </em> find that some of the Assembly had like, cloned themselves, so it was technically possible that he had a clone somewhere? </p><p>“So anyway, we figured either Essek <em> was </em> trying to help us and got killed before he could give us what we needed, or Essek was secretly fucking us over and was also still alive. Either way, we kind of needed to try resurrecting him to find out. <em> Soooo, </em> we stole his body, and he <em> did </em> come back, so he wasn’t cloned or anything.” The temperature of the room seems to drop several degrees, but either Jester doesn’t notice or she’s resistant to the frosty glares leveled at her.</p><p>“And you know, right when we<em> first </em> found out that he was working with the Assembly we didn’t exactly get a chance to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but once we had him <em> alone </em> we were like, ‘what are you doing?’ and he was like ‘I stole the beacons and just gave them to these dicks who I don’t trust at all because they wanted to research them and I wanted to research them.’ Which you have to admit is a little stupid. He <em> could </em> have just been blinded by ambition or something. But also, we knew for certain that Trent Ickithon and <em> probably </em> lots of his scourgers could modify people’s memories and things. And like, sure, we didn’t have any <em> evidence </em> that that happened, but do you know how many times we only have a hunch and then it still turns out that we’re right? We’re really good at solving mysteries. </p><p>“So you know, we told him that it was <em> possible </em> he had fake memories, and if I cast a Greater Restoration on him that would undo any Modify Memory and he’d remember what actually happened. And we had to get this <em> huge </em> diamond to resurrect him anyway, so compared to that what’s a little diamond dust, right? And <em> then,” </em> she says, sucking in a huge breath, “when I cast the spell, guess what? Essek remembered like, catching <em> Trent </em> right in Rosohna and trying to stop him from taking the beacons, but then getting tricked into believing that <em> he </em> was actually the one who stole them for the Assembly. So then we knew he had fake memories! And obviously we used a Zone of Truth to test if he actually remembered, we’re not dumb, but if you want to do it on him yourself I’m sure he’d let you.”</p><p>What follows is a very long silence. Essek spends it contemplating how much he’s underestimated Jester Lavorre, combing through her explanation to find the seams of stitched-together truths. There is an enormous amount of subtlety in her seeming lack thereof.</p><p>Finally, the Bright Queen says, “Where is he right now?”</p><p>Essek swallows his fear, drifts forward into the zone and lets it take hold. The Luxon cleric starts, eyes widening. Essek drops the Invisibility. Drops to his knees, hands held above his head. He wishes someone would...gasp, murmur something to their neighbor, shift in their seat, but instead he's left listening to the uneven panicked patter of his own heart.</p><p>“Essek.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Is what she said true?”</p><p>Technically? “Yes.” His mouth feels like sandpaper. He swallows, then continues before he can think better of it. “Though I fear my friend has glossed over the sheer enormity of my arrogance, incompetence, and cowardice. I did not steal the beacons. But neither did I report the communications between the Assembly and I when they first occurred, and instead considered their offer with a treasonous amount of sincerity. I did not think to call for the aid of another when I realized their plot was still underfoot even without the collaboration they'd requested from me. And my loyalty was so thin and my reckless ambition so great that it only took one spell and a memory of scarcely ten minutes to erase my unsteady resolve and turn me into a collaborator. Everything after is unchanged. I may not have stolen the beacons, but the actions I took while believing I <em> did </em> speak very clearly as to the shape of my character. You had every reason to execute me before, and only one reason fewer to do so again.” </p><p>This, too, is not part of the plan. Essek does not glance back at the Nein. If he cannot see them, he can imagine they are still standing confident as they were when Jester stepped forward.</p><p>“Brave words from someone who claims cowardice.”</p><p>Essek laughs breathlessly. “Just guilty words from a fool. The cowardly ones are 'please don't hurt me again because you won't learn anything new except one lost memory, please.'" His voice doesn't shake as much as he'd expected. In an abstract way, he's proud of himself. This is better than the first time around. If he can die as someone worth a little bit of respect—</p><p>Well. He still really does not want to die. Essek drops his gaze to the ground as the Bright Queen stares at him, face unreadable. There's a bit of scuffling from one of the Nein. His arms are starting to hurt from being held up for so long. He's never had particularly good strength or endurance, never needed to when his magic could resist the pull of gravity instead.</p><p>“What would you have me do with you, then?” she asks, quiet to the cavernous emptiness of the chamber. Essek looks up in surprise. She's not—well. The Bright Queen has been a tangle of hard planes and sharp edges for as long as he's served her. But she's not angry as he expected, nothing like when he was first discovered and brought before her. There is a threat of cruelty marring her curiosity, but it seems like an honest question.</p><p>“I can't possibly fix any of this,” he says. “I'd like to try anyway, if you'd allow me. Not in my previous position, obviously,” he adds at the slight narrowing of her eyes. “I should not be trusted with that level of power and influence. I’m not sure what I <em> should </em> be trusted with, but if there is anything…”</p><p>“You are one of the most accomplished scholars of dunamancy in this age. You have more than enough power and influence just by existing.”</p><p>Essek goes back to looking at the ground.</p><p>“If I may,” Fjord says, “the Mighty Nein was formed by independently untrustworthy people, but as a group we’ve learned how to balance each other out. This may be a case where a system of accountability is more valuable than individual trust.”</p><p>She turns to look at the Nein, and Essek hates that her attention has been diverted from him. They have placed themselves in an extremely precarious position by aligning with him, and he doesn’t want them to take the fall. A long moment passes, and then she turns back to him.</p><p>“Essek of no den. You’ve done a great deal of harm to this nation. What are you willing to give back to it? Everything?”</p><p>He reaches for some platitude that would appease her and chokes on the words before they leave his lips. “...no. A lot, but not everything,” he says instead.</p><p>“And this group of reckless outsiders who have flaunted the laws of this Dynasty to resurrect you, who sought to exonerate you on a ‘hunch?’ What do you owe them? Everything?”</p><p>He tries to say <em> no, </em>and chokes on that, too. He’s left scrambling for a safe answer until the truth spell peters out to nothing. Even then he can’t speak, because she is staring at him in a way no one ever has.</p><p>He can always tell who is on their third or fourth life by whether they look at him like a particularly precocious child. Only now is he struck by how <em> many people </em> Leylas Kryn has been. She looks at him like she has died young and alone and heartless before, like she has been a lost cause saved only by the improbable faith of friends, like she is running out of empathy for reflections in mirrors. He is nothing but an echo to her, some forsaken timeline to be repurposed and discarded.</p><p>He is so small, suddenly.</p><p>“Mighty Nein,” she says, turning her gaze away. “Patience for your audacity wears thin, buffered, admittedly, by the sheer weight of your deeds. You brought back one stolen beacon, prevented the assassination of some of our most important figures and the overtaking of a strategic military location, hunted down a cult which took advantage of our diverted focus to try unchaining an ancient evil, and negotiated peace talks that led to the return of the other beacon and an end to armed conflict. And now you have brought us a new beacon, one that had fallen into enemy hands without our knowledge. You have a remarkable propensity for correcting your mistakes. When one of your own helped unchain an unkillable being, you managed to kill it anyway. And somehow you’ve won the loyalty of a person without any, coincidentally someone whose transgressions you've been undoing this entire—” </p><p>“Oh shit! I forgot to tell you,” Jester says. “We also literally just got back from fucking up the Assembly. Mostly the really bad ones who knew about all the beacons. Essek helped a ton, and also a lot of the Cobalt Soul. Trent is like, <em> dust </em> now.”</p><p>Leylas Kryn, <em> umavi</em>, Bright Queen of the Dynasty bearing her name, a being with immense influence over the world and countless lifetimes’ worth of experience, sighs as she is interrupted by a small blue tiefling with dicks painted on her shield. “Just...keep him. You’re the ones who decided to offer him a second chance, and I consider you responsible for whatever he does with it.”</p><p>It is an extremely kind threat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. We’re so sorry and we love you so much</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: The Mighty Nein see how different many ways they can confound the Bright Queen in one hour.</p><p>this chapter: Essek remembers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After a quick argument about whether they should check in on their actual house, the Nein decide to err on the side of caution and give the news of Essek's acquittal a few more days to spread before they go wandering around Rosohna with him. Instead, they return to Nicodranas, exchanging a quick word with Wensforth before making their way back to the Lavish Chateau.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek doesn't realize his hands are still shaking until Caleb takes one of them in his own, squeezing it gently. Essek squeezes back, tired in a way he can’t adequately define. He has no political responsibilities to attend to, he’s been absolved of previous criminal charges, he has no den whose reputation he must uphold. He’s free. He doesn’t really know what that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>means.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek remains silent the entire walk back to the room where they usually keep the mansion. A few of the others make an approximation of relaxed chatter, but there’s an undercurrent of tension that he doesn’t have the energy to dissect at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Essek,” Beau says as Caleb starts casting, “you know you aren't like, tied to us, right? Like, we're not gonna force you to stick around. You can do your own thing. You don't actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>owe</span>
  </em>
  <span> us shit, you don't have to pay us back or whatever, none of that bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the contrary, if we went our separate ways tomorrow and never spoke again, I would still spend the rest of my days drifting around the world paying you back in whatever ways I could manage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Cool, sure, if you wanna make it a metaphor then it feels less weird. Don't actually drift though,” she adds. “The floating looks a lot dumber without the cloak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek frowns. Lifts off the ground for the first time in days, just enough so that he's taller than Beau. She rolls her eyes, and steps into the Xhorhaus 2.0 after Caduceus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we done now?” Yasha asks when everyone is inside. A few nods, some half-hearted, others decisive and firm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done with what?” Essek asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jester takes one of his hands. “Hey, Essek? It's been a really long month and you've had a lot to think about, and a lot has happened, and a lot of that ended up being more complicated than we really thought it would be, you know? But I just want to remind you that we're all here for you, and we only did this because we wanted you to be safe, because you're our friend. We're so sorry and we love you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about to ask what she’s talking about, but then she takes her other hand, glittering with powdered diamond, and casts a spell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Essek remembers this:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is...exceptionally delicious, actually.” He's so startled by the revelation that he's somehow been resurrected as someone with an appreciation for sugar that he barely notices that the spell Jester is casting isn’t Greater Restoration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Counterspell is pure instinct, the cupcake tumbling to the floor as he casts. Caleb is just as quick, stealing the magic from his fingers with a counter of his own. Jester's spell completes. Everything fades away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, sorry, sorry, you'll know what was going on as soon as possible, fuck. Um. So what you remember is saying that the cupcake was delicious, and thennnnn yoooouuu dropped it. Because I cast Greater Restoration on you, and you immediately realized that your memory of stealing the beacons was false! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Now</span>
  <em>
    <span> you remember that what </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually</span>
  <em>
    <span> happened was that you changed your mind at the last minute, and then figured out that someone else was still trying to steal the beacons anyway, and you went to stop them, but it was Trent! And then he managed to cast a spell on you to modify your memory, so he made it so that you didn’t remember him being there and you believed that you </span>
  </em>
  <span>hadn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>changed your mind about stealing them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek remembers this:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a long pause where everyone tries to pretend they aren't staring at Caleb, who has buried his face in his hands. Finally he says, “There is one option we have not mentioned yet. Ah. I would not even suggest it as an option considering the level of risk involved, except that it has such high reward in return. And it is just audacious enough that no one would even think of it. Jester...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wellll,” Jester starts. “Essek, did you have to go under a Zone of Truth when you got caught?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was no need. Once it became apparent they had solid evidence, I confessed everything except for the existence of a new beacon.” Everything except for the new beacon and the part where the Nein already knew what he'd done. He'd been so glad that he'd kept any suspicion away from them, that he’d avoided starting another war for them to deal with, and now they were in danger all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so what if you went in one and told everyone that you hadn't actually stolen the beacons?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>do that then it wouldn’t be a very useful spell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah, but just </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you could lie in a Zone of Truth, and you said you were innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That...would be wonderful, but I don't know where this hypothetical is going because I can assure you that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie in a Zone of Truth any more than you can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it wouldn't be that hard. I’d just say a bunch of true things in the right order and people would make up lies that I didn't actually say. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>also,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she says, holding up a finger for emphasis, “The spell only makes you say things that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> are true. So if you believed you hadn't actually stolen the beacons and were just framed, you wouldn't have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I can't tell if you're going somewhere or if this is a metaphor for religion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the wizards you were collaborating with is known to manipulate people by altering their memories,” Caleb cuts in. “Jester can do the same to you, so that you could redact your confession while under a Zone of Truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek considers it for a moment. “We would have to be exceptionally clever about it. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> already confess to everything, so just erasing that would be suspicious, and they might try a Greater Restoration. And you can only reach so far back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ja. Which is why </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be pretending to cast Greater Restoration on you, so that what you ‘remember’ in the present is that Trent altered your memories when you tried to stop him from stealing the beacons himself. We would not be removing any past memories, just convincing you that the real ones are false.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's...that’s downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>genius,</span>
  </em>
  <span> actually,” Essek says. No one seems as eager as he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not nice to have your memory messed with,” Yasha says. “So, I am only willing to do this if we fix it afterwards, and I think everyone else agrees on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a chorus of nods and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeahs.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That's perfectly reasonable. And this would likely require that you openly admit to having revived me, which...could be a problem. But if it works—and if we are clever about it I do think it would—then there is no ongoing danger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I'm not that into dealing with an endless manhunt,” Fjord says. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried about what happens if we screw this one up, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we screw </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of these up, I get killed again and you’ll face intense scrutiny, and possibly a similar fate if they manage to capture me alive and interrogate me. If we screw </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> option up...” Essek pauses, frowns. “Again, admitting to resurrecting me is terribly risky. We'd have to be careful about how we frame that. And if things go wrong and they execute me again, you’d have to promise not to interfere a second time. That would </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> get you killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a collective shifting in seats, a scattering of shared glances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. We will have to be very careful not to make a mistake, then,” Caleb says, “so that it will not come to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment where the only sound in the room is the scribbling of Beau’s pen. “Does anyone have any comments, objections, etcetera?” she says, very much like she has one of the above. “Votes? Are we moving into voting territory?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if we're going to have to lie—and I don't think there's any way around it at this point—then I'm more than happy to stick with whatever’s easiest to remember. Telling the truth about everything except one big detail is a lot simpler than trying to keep track of a thousand smaller lies over months, maybe decades.” Caduceus tilts his head slightly. “I’ll admit, it's a lot more complicated in the short term, but whatever happens, at least we would be done with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>one,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jester says, holding up a finger, “it would really suck if Essek were hiding all the time and we never got to hang out. Two, it would be really cool if we did this and it worked. Three, I am kinda worried about having to lie to Essek until we restore his memory. Four, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to cast the spell twice because he can't remember this conversation, which means that we'll probably have to drug Essek with a cupcake the second time—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—to make sure it works, and that feels pretty bad even if he technically consented earlier on. Five, we'll have to make sure Essek doesn't get turned to stone or anything where we'd need to do a Greater Restoration on him or else he’ll remember too early. Six—” She pauses. Shrugs. “I can’t think of anything else except, you know, it would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>really cool</span>
  </em>
  <span> if this works. I’m not saying this is the best plan we’ve ever come up with, buuuut it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> the best plan we’ve ever come up with.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, my opinion hasn’t changed. Essek likes it. I'm in. It's exactly our kind of con, come on,” says Veth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s at least as good as any of our other ideas,” Fjord says with a shrug. “And certainly better than some of them. Why not, let’s do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't like it,” Yasha says, “but I don't like the other plans very much either. If this is what you want to do then I will go along with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau gives Essek a hard stare. Says, “I feel like we need to have a talk about you choosing whatever option in life lets you avoid all consequences for your actions, because that's becoming a pattern. Undoing your entire conviction and letting you walk free is...I mean, I would say it's a shitty thing to do, except we kinda already did it by resurrecting you and never turning you in in the first place. But at some point we're gonna have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek nods. “If you'd like. I do genuinely think this is the safest plan for you all, though, so long as we play it right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure dude, whatever you want to tell yourself. Caleb?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caleb clears his throat, looks pensively at Essek. “I...I think my concern is less about the kind of safety you are speaking of, so much as the kind you don't seem to be taking into account. Physical security is one thing, but your psychological wellbeing is important as well, and having your mind altered can be—damaging.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek laughs humorlessly. “I appreciate the concern, but I will be fine. Certainly better than if I spent the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, hiding in shadows, scared that I will be discovered or that my mere presence might endanger my friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caleb deflates. “Ja. That is not a good way to live. I hope you are right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long pause. Beau says, “Pretty sure that’s a unanimous </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then? Anything else? We’re doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t mind, I would like clarification on the cupcake part?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> drug you with a cupcake. It’s just a magic dust that makes the cupcake taste really good and also makes you super susceptible to spells that fuck with your head for a little bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure that still counts as a drug,” Beau points out. “If you want </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun </span>
  </em>
  <span>drugs, though, I’d recommend whatever Caduceus did with that fruit. Or else I still have some stuff from Molly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I. Ah. Will stick with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic dust,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and solely for the purpose of ensuring Jester’s spell works, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair. You change your mind, though, just let me know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will say,” Caduceus says, “that if we’re worried about making the second spell work, we should really cast it today instead of waiting until the last minute. Coming back from the grave leaves a person a bit more vulnerable for the first few days, which would help us out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That will be a lot of time. I don’t know if I can do this,” Yasha says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not comfortable with it, maybe we can work out some sort of compromise?” Essek suggests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t mean I can’t do it because I am uncomfortable. Well, I am uncomfortable with a lot of things just in general, but I meant that I’m a bad liar and will probably mess the story up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you can just avoid being in the same room as Essek for a while, and we can lie for you,” Jester suggests. “Like, you can just go take a nap and the rest of us will stay here and be like </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh wow Essek, I can’t believe you remembered all of that, that’s so surprising and not at all suspicious that it actually worked and all of our problems got solved.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please try not to oversell it.” He isn’t trying to direct the warning at Jester specifically, but—okay, maybe he is. She gives a little pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Beau says. “Ten gold says you don’t suspect a thing. Jester’s a really good liar, and the rest of us aren’t shabby either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will by the time you actually remember this whole conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...true. Then I guess it’s a bet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twenty gold says that if you do figure it out, it’s because of Veth,” Fjord adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thirty </span>
  </em>
  <span>gold says that Fjord trips on his own feet the first time we fight the Assembly and I have to rescue him,” Veth counters, and then everything devolves into a series of increasingly specific and unlikely bets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have one minute,” Caleb calls out eventually, interrupting a scenario involving Veth, a minotaur, and rhino potions. “If there are any specifics we still need to discuss, do it now and do it quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes turn to Essek, and he can only shrug. What else is there to say? “I have faith in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gets him a small grin from Caduceus, serious nods from Beau, Fjord, and Jester, a dubious grimace from Veth, and vaguely tortured looks from Yasha and Caleb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Thirty-five seconds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okaay, time to go. You’re going to remember this eventually, so just relax, alright? Everything’s going to be okay,” Jester says, taking one of his hands while making uncomfortably earnest eye contact. He nods, and she lets go in order to cast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, so instead of the last ten minutes, all that happened was that Caleb told you that, you know, the one possibility we haven’t looked into yet was that you were magically tricked into cooperating, because one of the people you’ve been working with is really good at fucking with people’s heads and changing memories and stuff. And you were like “I meaaan, I doubt it” but I was like “We should check with a Greater Restoration because it would be dumb if we didn’t and then it turns out you’re innocent.” And then you agreed to eat a cupcake, because I told you the black moss flavor is really good!</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>time to play a fun game called <em>look at the title of chapter 2 again</em></p><p>I wrote this fic in chronological order, which means I have been sitting on most of this chapter <em>forever,</em> waiting to post the reveal like a particularly impatient phone on vibrate.<br/>That said, depending on how real life goes the final chapter will probably be late, as I finally burned through my writing buffer. If you’re impatient and like rereading things, I did sprinkle in a bunch of foreshadowing and dramatic irony in the previous chapters with the intent of making this fic just as enjoyable the second time around, so maybe give that a go?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Not at you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: Essek remembers.</p>
<p>this chapter: Essek falls (apart.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1. The number of kudos and comments is giving me heart palpitations. Bless everyone who went back and commented on earlier chapters about details you missed. Y'all are amazing.<br/>2. Originally this fic was supposed to be 5 chapters, which obviously didn't happen. Hubris said I was definitely capable of wrapping it up in one more really big chapter. But I've spent the last three weeks over-polishing the first 2000 words of that chapter while neglecting to write the rest, so I think maybe I need to just publish this and move on.<br/>3. The final chapter has now been split into the fun half and the D: half. This is the D: half! I'm so sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Essek doesn't intend to stop floating. He just finds himself pitching sideways, hitting the ground at the wrong angle, knee buckling in protest. Yasha is quick enough to catch him.</p>
<p>“Oh,” he says faintly, looking up at her concerned face. “Clever.” </p>
<p>“Are you...okay?” she asks.</p>
<p>He's—fine. He tries to say as much, but the response catches in his throat, comes out as a choked wordless thing. Yasha pulls him back to his feet, which don't seem capable of supporting him all of a sudden. His eyes sting. He's trembling. He's fine.</p>
<p>“Oh, Essek,” Jester says, too gently, and that breaks whatever composure he had remaining. His next breath turns into a sob, eyes spilling over.</p>
<p>A detached part of him says that this is all very melodramatic. He hasn't cried in years. All this collapsing and shaking and blubbering is so—performative. Essek has no reason to be upset. He doesn't need to react like this. It isn't reasonable, and now all his friends are looking concerned and hovering anxiously, except for Yasha, who is still supporting half his weight. This is, frankly, <em> mortifying. </em>He can stop now.</p>
<p>Only he can't actually seem to stop. He's torn between burying his face in Yasha's shoulder so he doesn't have to look at the Nein or curling into a ball and hoping they stop looking at him.</p>
<p>“We're sorry, man,” Beau says. “Do you want a hug, or do you want us to go away, or...?”</p>
<p>The answer to both questions is <em> yes, </em> and for some reason this paradox is funny. He tries to nod, laughs. Continues to giggle hysterically even though it isn't <em> that </em> funny. Much like the crying, it doesn’t seem to be something he has control over at the moment. It’s just—this is—</p>
<p>Caleb steps forward, places a hand under his chin. “Essek. <em> Look at me.” </em></p>
<p>His eyes are blue. Essek quiets, finally manages to inhale.</p>
<p>“Are you still with me?”</p>
<p>Essek nods.</p>
<p>“Good. Apologies cannot change what has already happened. If there is any comfort we can offer you, we will, or if you would rather be left alone, we can arrange that as well. What do you want?”</p>
<p>He wants to be okay. He wants to be<em> better. </em> He wants to not be the same person it turns out he has always been. The only thing Essek can do in the face of the sheer impossibility of any of these desires is to start sobbing again. He pulls away from Yasha's grasp and sinks to the ground, curling into himself. A hand brushes his shoulder, and he flinches away instinctively. The touch vanishes. For a horrible moment it is just him, alone with the ache in his chest and the darkness behind his own eyelids.</p>
<p>Then, in the back of his head, “Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable, perhaps? You may reply to this Message.”</p>
<p><em> The study? Please? </em> Essek sends back, finally able to respond without the shuddering gasping wreck of his body interfering.</p>
<p>“Of course.” Essek hears the familiar verbal component of a Dimension Door, and then he finds himself curled up on the couch instead of the ground. Caleb snaps his fingers, and a moment later Frumpkin is worming his way into Essek's arms, purring.</p>
<p>“Would you like to be alone for a while?” Caleb asks quietly.</p>
<p>Essek's head shoots up. <em> “No.” </em> His voice sounds like a crumpled napkin.</p>
<p>“Ja, okay. Okay. I will stay.” </p>
<p>Essek leans back into the couch and tries to regulate his breathing. Stop crying. Stop thinking, probably. Just. Stop. He can hear Caleb sending another Message, informing one of the Nein that they are in the study and that privacy would be appreciated. There's a one-sided conversation, impossible to parse—<em> no, ja, I don't think so, no, no, sure </em>—and then a faint rustling of fabric as he removes his coat and sets it aside. Caleb spends the next several minutes leaning up against the table, casually twirling a bit of copper wire between his fingers, facing the door and politely ignoring Essek. Essek, who is—</p>
<p>Well. Even if he does manage to stop openly sobbing, there’s really no way to ignore the fact that he is not coping well with the reveal. <em> It was me. It was just me. I did it. I did it I did it I did it? </em></p>
<p>He keeps poring over the events of the last month, over every quiet moment where he’d contemplated who he was now versus who he’d been, every conversation and every bit of nuance he’d overlooked, every careful glance. He keeps trying to <em> comprehend. </em> He keeps trying to wrap his mind around the weight of what he has done, and every time that his brain rejects the sharp and simple truth he throws himself back upon it, like maybe this time he will understand. Maybe this time he will understand. Maybe he can <em> understand. </em> Maybe there is something that makes sense, somewhere in this. Maybe there is an angle he can look at the sun that doesn’t hurt.</p>
<p>There is a knock at the door. Caleb answers it, and returns a second later with a tray, which he sets on the small table next to Essek before returning to his earlier spot. A cup of tea, a gray-flecked cupcake on a little plate, a folded piece of paper underneath. Essek doesn’t want to deal with—with whatever any of them want to say to him right now. He doesn’t want pity or sympathy or some apology for things that are only his fault, at the root of things. He sighs unsteadily and untangles his fingers from Frumpkin’s fur to tug the note out from under the plate.</p>
<p><em> REGULAR CUPCAKE, </em> it says, taking up the entire page in green ink. Essek laughs.</p>
<p>“You know, I really didn’t think I would <em> care,” </em> he says, then takes a bite so he doesn’t start crying again. The cupcake isn’t the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted and it isn’t disgustingly sweet. It’s just...okay. Perhaps more importantly, eating it is something to do other than weep pitifully, or stare at the ceiling while trying and failing to breathe evenly, or keep his hands busy by pulling tufts of fur from Caleb’s poor familiar.</p>
<p>Caleb—Caleb seems perfectly at ease in spite of all this. Too perfect, and Essek latches onto that detail like a liferaft. Dissecting Caleb's emotional state is easier than dealing with his own. </p>
<p>He’s seen Caleb collapse inward, but more often he’s seen just the opposite—projecting a persona that is bold and in control, unafraid. He remembers Caleb holding up the beacon while his friends stood in chains. Striding out of a blackened husk of a building into the light of the Empire. Throwing spell after spell in grim determination. He remembers Caleb stepping forward, decisive and firm as he turned Essek’s face to look him in the eye.</p>
<p>Essek lets out a long breath. “You were scared, earlier. Why?”</p>
<p>Caleb looks over at him, taking in his current state. Then he says, “I've said that you remind me of my past self, ja?”</p>
<p>"Yes.”</p>
<p>"For a moment you reminded me of the worst point. I am sorry if I was a bit...much.” He sits down at the other end of the couch, doesn't elaborate. The distance between them seems immense. For a moment Essek is terrified by it, by the notion that whatever had grown between them has been replaced by empty space. Maybe it’s just a confirmation that he's fundamentally terrible, but that thought hurts far worse than the rediscovery of his own arrogant amorality. </p>
<p>“...you tried to warn me. I didn't listen.”</p>
<p>“Ja. But I could have done better. I could have never suggested the plan in the first place.”</p>
<p>“It was a brilliant plan.”</p>
<p>“That doesn't mean it was good.” </p>
<p>Caleb doesn't make eye contact. Essek considers him, unnaturally still and impossibly far away. He can't ask him to come closer, can't bear it if the answer is <em> no, </em> but—</p>
<p>“Are you all the way over there because something is different now, or are you just afraid that I'm upset at you?”</p>
<p>Caleb turns to look at him, eyes wide.</p>
<p>“Not at you,” Essek says, very tired. Caleb blinks a couple times, then slides over to his side of the couch. Essek leans against his shoulder.</p>
<p>“I didn’t—I don't want to assume,” Caleb says. “Things don't have to remain the same between us, if—there's a lot of reasons for you to reconsider.”</p>
<p>“I was caught off guard. There's a lot to process at once, but I will be—” Right now <em> fine </em> seems unattainable. Has he ever been? “—better, given time. I don't want <em> this </em> to change.”</p>
<p>“Ja. Okay.”</p>
<p>They stay like that for a while. Caleb uses a Mage Hand to pull a book over and flips through it. Essek catches bits and pieces, but he can't concentrate on reading right now. At one point his thoughts wander to his conversation with the Bright Queen and he begins to cry again, which seems terribly excessive considering how much he already has.</p>
<p>Caleb sets the book aside, and wraps an arm over Essek's shoulders, pulling him close. Essek ends up halfway in his lap, Caleb's nimble fingers combing through his hair while Frumpkin sits next to him, purring loudly. It’s—nice. Everything about him is wrong and has been wrong for longer than he’s ever wanted to admit, but this is nice. </p>
<p>After Essek collects himself again, Caleb says, “It's getting late. Would you like to go to bed?”</p>
<p>It’s not actually that late, but this has also been the longest day of Essek’s life, so. “That’s...probably for the best.” He drags himself to his feet and prestidigitates the wrinkles out of his clothing, and takes the pair of glasses out of his pocket, and removes his shoes, and his component pouch, and places all of these aside. Caleb wanders into the bedroom, strips, pulls on his nightshirt, keeps one eye on Essek.</p>
<p>And when they settle down into bed, Essek asks, without really asking, if he can fold himself into Caleb's arms again, and the answer, wordless and clear, is <em> yes, of course, </em>so he does. For the first night in a long time, Essek trances instead of drifting into unconscious oblivion. He wants to be aware for this, the feeling of Caleb pressed up next to him, this warm and sacred proximity. He will finally stop running away from his own mind, for this. It is worth it if nothing else is.</p>
<p>Eight hours is a lot of time to think back on things. Not nearly enough time to sort himself out, but at the very least it is a starting point, a blank page, enough to organize his thoughts so they don't crush him. </p>
<p>Here is where it stands: there is no trick of the light, no secret enemy who stole his agency to lead him astray, no way to soften the blow. He has done <em> terrible </em> things. He cannot go back to rationalizing it all into seeming less terrible, now that he understands this. He has friends who have faith in him as much as he does in them, and a second life which he did not earn but which they decided to gift to him anyway. He has Caleb, here, perhaps not only as a friend, and they will have to talk about that. Tomorrow.</p>
<p>At some point, very early in the morning if Essek's guess is right, Caleb stirs. Mumbles something unintelligible, either Zemnian or distressed gibberish. When Essek shifts to look at him, he tenses but does not wake, the mumbling increasing in intensity.</p>
<p>Caleb never mentioned how he reacts when Essek has nightmares, and Essek doesn't have any experience with such things. Feeling lost and a bit foolish, he pats Caleb's hair, one-two-three-four, pause. And again. </p>
<p>Caleb stills. Essek goes back to counting the hours.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. No more acting, no more playing along</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously: Essek falls (apart.)</p><p>this chapter: Essek contemplates past and future families.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>RIP Xhorhaus 2.0, you were fun while the AU lasted.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes a while for Essek to realize why it isn’t morning yet. It <em> is </em> morning. It’s just too quiet. Usually by now there would be a commotion coming from the direction of the kitchen. He summons Alsuzu and sends her skittering out to investigate. What he finds is the most gloomy breakfast scene the Xhorhaus 2.0 has ever seen. The only sound is the clinking of cutlery. Not even Jester makes an attempt at small talk.</p><p>“On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you guys think we fucked up?” she finally asks, in a very small voice.</p><p>“Well, let’s see,” Veth says. “We made him believe that our enemy had rearranged his brain when it was actually <em> us, </em> his only friends in the entire world. Then we lied to him for weeks while watching him change his whole moral philosophy based off of those lies. <em> Then, </em>when everything seemed to be going right, we pulled the rug out from underneath him and he had a mental breakdown. So. Thirteen, maybe fourteen?”</p><p>“He gave us permission to do all that,” Fjord points out. “Well, maybe not the breakdown part.”</p><p>“We couldn’t have guessed that going into it,” Caduceus says. “And I think carefully-worded advice and omitting details isn’t on the same level as intentionally lying to someone.” </p><p>“Huh. Maybe that’s what you did, but <em> I </em> was just fucking lying,” Beau says. “And could we really not guess he’d have some kind of morality crisis? Or did we just not want to consider it?”</p><p>“I don’t think any of us could imagine Essek being that upset, even if we did guess he’d change his mind on stuff,” Jester mumbles. “I’ve never seen him cry <em> at all. </em> I think maybe we were so excited by how <em> smart </em> the plan was and how much Essek liked it that we didn’t stop to ask if maybe it was still a bad idea.”</p><p>“We probably should have guessed it was a bad idea because he liked it so much,” Yasha says. Then, after pausing for a moment, “You know, because he’s made a lot of bad choices. It was a better joke in my head.”</p><p>“You’re not <em> wrong, </em> though,” Fjord says with a sigh. “It isn’t funny when you’re <em> right.” </em></p><p>“Well, sometimes you try to do something helpful for someone and it turns out it was actually kind of shitty, and then everyone is angry at you forever,” Veth says, taking a sip of juice. “It happens.”</p><p>“That’s the thing though, I don’t think he’s gonna be <em> angry </em> at us for lying to him. That doesn’t mean we haven’t—aw fuck. A bug got in here.” Beau makes eye contact with Essek—with <em> Alsuzu </em>—as she speaks. Reaches to take off a slipper.</p><p>“I’ve got it!” Veth calls out, and Fjord has to dive over the table to prevent her from loading her crossbow.</p><p><em> Run, </em> Essek commands Alsuzu, then comes back to his own senses to begin the process of carefully untangling himself from a sleeping Caleb. He’s halfway to the dining room when it finally occurs to him that he doesn’t need to rush into the room to save his familiar. Feeling properly foolish, he dismisses her.</p><p>“I swear it went under here somewhere. Fuck.”</p><p>“Do you think it dies when the house disappears, or is it just in here forever now?”</p><p>“Oh my gosh you guys, what if it ends up in the Astral Sea and then we go back to the dreadnought, and there’s like, a whole colony of baby spiders there?”</p><p>“You know, I’m really not worried about the Happy Fun Ball, on account of us not <em> living there.” </em></p><p>“Well, if it started a colony <em> here, </em> at least it would be a good food source. The little ones get nice and crispy when you toast them.”</p><p>Essek takes a moment to compose himself. Casts a quick Prestidigtation to smooth out the wrinkles in his his clothes, smooths away loose strands of hair.</p><p>“Hey, we’re really sorry about the misunderstanding, there’s no need for anyone to jump to violence. If you could just come back, I can show you the way out,” Caduceus says, apparently to the spider. “But if you stay, we’re not really sure what’s going to happen to you, so—”</p><p>“Anything that entered the mansion reappears at the entry point once the mansion is dismissed,” Essek says, stepping into the room. All eyes turn to him.</p><p>“Essek!” Jester takes a few steps towards him. Stutters to a halt, arms falling back to her sides. Her hesitation hurts in a way that he didn’t even know <em> could </em> hurt. He’s been finding all sorts of new ways to bleed as of late.</p><p>Essek opens his mouth to apologize, for<em> what </em> he’s not sure—for starting a war? For having a dramatic emotional reaction? The former is laughably inadequate and the latter will result in an unwanted storm of reassurances and pity. </p><p>Instead what he says is, “A hug would be excellent right now, actually.” He’s directing it at Jester, but perhaps that nuance isn’t obvious to the rest, because a few seconds after she wraps her arms around him (too tight, fuck, how is she so <em> buff?) </em>she’s joined by Caduceus. Then Yasha. Beau. Veth comes in low for his legs. Fjord.</p><p>Essek’s only real goal for the day was not to cry again. He’s dangerously close to failing. He’s been up for two minutes. Damn the lot of them.</p><p>“We’re so sor—” Jester begins.</p><p>“Don’t,” Essek cuts her off.</p><p><em> “Hey. </em>We’re allowed to fucking apologize, dude. If you don’t want to accept it, that’s your problem, but don’t tell us we can’t say sorry.”</p><p>“I didn’t...no, you’re right. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Well, no, I don’t think you need to apologize for <em> that,” </em> Yasha says. Then, after a moment, “Sorry, that made it sound like I was expecting you to apologize for something else. I just meant—”</p><p>“Yasha, are you apologizing for Beau making Essek apologize for not wanting Jester to apologize? Because if you are, maybe we should stop there. I feel like three layers of <em> sorry </em> is enough,” Fjord says.</p><p>“She was apologizing for making him feel like he should apologize for something unrelated to the other apologies. I thought that was very clear,” Caduceus says.</p><p>“Well, <em> I’m </em> willing to apologize for Beau,” Veth says. “Essek, I’m sorry that Beau was so rude.”</p><p>“What? No, you don’t—even if I <em> was </em> rude—”</p><p>“You were.”</p><p><em> “—fine, </em> I’m sorry for making Essek feel like he needed to apologize when we were the ones who needed to apologize. But my point is, saying sorry doesn’t count if you’re doing it on someone else’s behalf—”</p><p>Essek asks, “Is this how long your hugs usually last?” and everyone jumps back.</p><p>“Uh, yep.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, <em> totally.” </em></p><p>“Usually my hugs are a lot longer than that, maybe it’s just a you thing.”</p><p>“Oh, <em> absolutely. </em> Really, who are you to be judging our hugging technique? You’ve said it yourself, you’re not exactly a hugging expert.”</p><p>“Nah, that one got a little weird,” Caduceus says, and everyone glares at him.</p><p>Essek laughs at the lot of them, says, “I love you all very much.” Wonders how long it’s been since he said <em> I love you </em> without lying. Can’t remember. Then, because that’s a very depressing thought, “Is anyone interested in going to the beach? I didn’t actually have the chance to swim last time.” </p><p>The answer is<em> yes, everyone,</em> though they insist on him eating first. By the time he’s finished with breakfast the clamor has drawn Caleb out of bed, and they all walk there together. The beach is empty except for the seagulls. Four crossbow bolts later it is just empty, Veth collecting the feathery corpses and muttering something about crabs and revenge<em>.</em> Fjord spends half an hour coaxing Essek further into the water (which is <em>cold,</em> thank you very much.) Jester turns Yasha into a dolphin. Caleb stays on shore, writing something and occasionally glancing out at the others (occasionally glancing out at <em>Essek,</em> at which point they both look away and pretend they weren’t watching each other.)</p><p>Thirty seconds after Essek wades out of the surf and pulls himself onto one of the rocky outcroppings overlooking the sea, Beau joins him.</p><p>“You tired of pretending that everything’s fine yet?”</p><p>“This is the worst place to have this conversation,” Essek points out, stretching and prestidigitating water out of his clothes. </p><p>“Yeah, but if we have it in the Xhorhaus 2.0 then you don’t have any excuse not to go into detail,” she points out, which. Fair. Anyone could be watching, scrying on them. They can’t actually say much out here.</p><p>Essek tilts his head, shrugs. “Yesterday was...not good. With any luck today will be marginally better, and tomorrow more so, and so on. That’s how these things are supposed to work, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Feelings? Are you asking me how <em> feelings </em> work?”</p><p>“I meant...negative life situations.”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, sure. Sometimes they just get worse and then you die, but you kinda already did that one. Almost thought it was gonna go the same way again after your whole dramatic confession thing, but second time’s the charm or whatever.”</p><p>Essek snorts. “In some ways the first time was easier. It was already certain that I was going to lose everything and then die. Yesterday…” He adjusts his sunglasses, frowns. “I hate not knowing things, more than anything. It’s arguably my fatal flaw.”</p><p>Beau scoffs. “Your biggest flaw is being a whiny pissbaby when you’re losing at cards.”</p><p>This is the kindest lie she’s ever told him, and it takes Essek a moment to collect himself. “It doesn’t count as losing if everyone else is cheating,” he says weakly.</p><p>“You know, for someone who spent most of your life thinking rules were beneath you, you sure do get offended when it’s everyone else who’s breaking them. Or is self-sabotage under the guise of honesty just your <em> thing </em> now?” She doesn’t look at him. Inspects her hands instead.</p><p>Essek sighs. “It wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to sabotage myself. I’m not sure how to explain this without making it sound more concerning than it truly is—”</p><p>Beau peeks up from examining her fingernails, raises a single unimpressed brow. A perfect picture of not giving a fuck. Essek sighs again.</p><p>“Getting caught was—of course it was <em> bad, </em> I was going to be interrogated and executed, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to that part. But it was also such a <em> relief. </em> Because <em> finally, </em> they all knew exactly what I was. No more acting, no more playing along. Just a hole in the script where I’d taken a knife to all of my lines.”</p><p>Beau goes back to examining her fingernails, with significantly more intensity than they ought to warrant.</p><p>“Of course it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, but it was also an <em> end </em>to the entire terrible charade. And then I had a second chance, and I didn’t—I couldn’t go back to that role. I wanted her to know that I was still the same. I needed it to be real.” His hands are trembling. He stares down at them, like that will convince them to stop.</p><p>“Hey, Essek?”</p><p>He looks up.</p><p>“Fuck your parents,” Beau says.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said, <em> fuck your parents.” </em></p><p>“I heard you the first time. You’ve never even met my parents.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I’ve also never met anyone the same level of fucked up as you who <em> didn’t </em>have some shitty adults with shitty expectations completely messing up their childhood, so. Maybe I’m wrong and you had great parents and a bad teacher or something, but considering who your mom is, I don’t really think so. So, you know, just in case no one’s ever said it before. Fuck them.”</p><p>He takes a moment to let that sink in. Then, “Beau?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Fuck your parents, too.”</p><p>She snorts. “Am I that transparent?”</p><p>“Yes. Very much so.”</p><p>“Do I have a tell I’m not aware of, or did you just guess from context? From one professional liar to another.”</p><p>“Mostly context. Also, you look at your hands when you’re trying to act casual.”</p><p>“Huh. Good to know. You kinda picked up a similar thing, by the way,” she adds. “Fidgeting with your hands, I mean. It makes it really obvious whenever you’re nervous.”</p><p>“Oh, well.” He’s started tearing apart a soggy scrap of parchment as he spoke, only really cognizant of it now that Beau has pointed it out. “I suppose I just have an appreciation for <em> having </em> hands nowadays.”</p><p>“Hah. Sure, I guess,” Beau says, glancing at her hands. Grimaces as she realizes what she’s doing, glares out at the sea instead. "Do you know how we met Caduceus? I promise this is like, relevant and shit.”</p><p>“Not entirely. I recall something about a graveyard?”</p><p>“Well, yeah. The graveyard was honestly the most cheerful part of the whole story. It's kinda a downer.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“Right, so, Jester and Fjord and Yasha all disappeared in the night. And then we met this woman, Keg, who recognized what was going on and told us that they'd been kidnapped by slavers. Molly—tiefling, flashy, an utter bastard but usually in a good way—he was the most insistent on getting them back. He kinda kept our group from falling apart in the early days, before any of us trusted each other.”</p><p>Essek is starting to see where this story is going. He’s still not sure why she’s telling it to him.</p><p>“But yeah, we chased after them. Left behind our cart because it was too slow, lost horses and kept going. We actually got ahead of the fuckers. We set up an ambush. We thought we had a good plan. We just...didn't have all the information. So. That's where we lost Molly.</p><p>“And you know, I thought that was fucking <em> it. </em> Caleb was always a selfish coward, I expected him to just <em> run. </em> But he didn't. Things went from bad to worse, and he just—you know.”</p><p>“He went to work.”</p><p>“Yeah. We found some more people to help us, and we did proper recon, and we made a real fucking plan, and we got our friends back. And Caduceus stuck around with us afterwards.”</p><p>“...I’m sorry for your loss. And I’m glad you didn’t lose any more than you did.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. When Yasha was mind-controlled, it was nearly the same thing all over again. We rushed in, we fucked up and made things worse, and then we had to regroup and do things carefully to actually save her. You'd think we would've learned from the first rescue mission, but...”</p><p>Now he gets what she’s trying to say. This isn’t a random story. This is an apology. "Hm. Well. Reason and patience tend to go out the window when a friend is suffering, but when it’s something that delicate, it’s more important to get it done <em> right </em> than <em> quickly. </em> I’m sure that third time's the charm.” </p><p>“Yeah. Yeah.” She lapses into silence. </p><p>Essek reaches into his pocket, digs around for a single platinum piece. Flips it at Beau. “This is for earlier.” </p><p>She catches it with ease. “What?”</p><p>“We had a bet.”</p><p>“Oh. I’d forgotten about that.”</p><p><em> “You </em> forgot about it?”</p><p>“Shut up. We all know it wasn’t a fair bet, anyway. No one could have fucking figured that one out, not even Mr. Prodigy Dunamagic Wizard.”</p><p>Essek inclines his head, trying to judge how much is safe to say out loud. Shrugs to himself, murmurs, “I <em> did </em>listen to Veth and Caleb have an entire conversation about whether or not my shift in moral reasoning was permanent or if I’d revert to my previous outlook after everything was done. I still didn’t connect the dots,” he admits with a wry smile, “But it wasn’t as impossible as you’d think.”</p><p>“Shit, really? I mean, I’m not surprised about <em> Veth </em> slipping up, but Caleb got real fucking pushy about not mentioning anything if there was even a teensy chance you could overhear.”</p><p>“Ah, well. That’s one area where I <em> did </em> cheat.” He snaps his fingers, summoning his familiar onto a single finger.</p><p>Beau glares at Alsuzu with an ire that she did absolutely nothing to deserve. “You were fucking spying on us this morning.” </p><p>Okay, <em> one </em> thing to deserve.</p><p>“In my defense, you <em> were </em> talking about me behind my back. And you <em> did </em>immediately try to murder my familiar.”</p><p>“Because it’s a spider! And you didn’t even tell us you had one!”</p><p>“You never <em> asked. </em> Terribly rude of you to just assume Alsuzu was a mundane creature.”</p><p><em> “Alsuzu?” </em> Beau says, and Essek remembers too late that she understands Undercommon. “You named your fucking spider <em> Leggy? </em>God. All wizards are the same.” </p><p>The morning drags on into afternoon, and after they leave the ocean Essek gets roped into shopping at three separate gift shops. When they’ve finally returned to the Xhorhaus 2.0, when he and Caleb have retreated back to the study, Essek asks, “What were you working on at the beach?”</p><p>“Oh, nothing much. I’ve heard descriptions of a spell called <em> Fire Storm, </em> and I was trying to recreate it. No luck so far,” Caleb says, like he’d expected to get anywhere with two hours of work and a page of notes.</p><p>Here is what you learn about a wizard, when you’ve copied nearly every spell from his spellbook: the fire comes to him easy as breathing. It took Essek almost a week of learning Caleb’s shorthand to realize that the hasty scribble above his notes on Fear was all he’d needed to record for Fireball. He has two pages dedicated to tweaking the parameters of a standard Bigby’s Hand to give it a more feline aesthetic, and two and a half lines to transcribe the entirety of his Web of Fire. It took him a stack of paper nearly as tall as Veth to figure out the spell to change her form, and that when the majority of it had already been created by Halas. But a Fire Storm? Essek is sure that Caleb will have it sorted out within another page or two, and whatever he transcribes into his spellbook will be so simple and elegant that it is nigh incomprehensible to anyone else.</p><p>He’d almost asked why Caleb hadn’t specialized in evocation, while first looking through his notes. But at the root of it, what he would really be asking is <em> why try to change the world when destroying it comes so naturally to you? </em></p><p>And besides, Essek already knows the answer. It’s written on the margins of Vaults of Amber, quick estimates on the dimensions of a body, in Caleb’s careful transcription of Move Earth, below it a map of a graveyard with one rectangle circled in blue. On the pages for Haste and Slow he’s written a number of exclamation marks, not to indicate anything useful other than his sheer excitement. His page on Polymorph is followed by a ranked list of forms by utility, durability, combat strength, and how much they can annoy Beau. He has a bit of arithmetic scribbled under the giant eagle entry, calculating how far he could fly in 10 minutes if Jester cast Polymorph and he cast Expeditious Retreat.</p><p>Essek doesn’t know who Caleb would’ve been, had he embraced the fire instead of this. Or rather, he does and wishes that he didn’t.</p><p>He sits on the couch, tired. After a moment, Caleb sits down next to him, giving him some space, but not too much, just within arm’s reach. After a minute of staring at the ceiling to decompress, Essek turns to look at him. Caleb looks back.</p><p>“Do we want to talk about...this?” Caleb asks, after a few moments.</p><p>“We probably <em> should, </em> and we haven’t been.”</p><p>Caleb hums. “I’ve had reasons for that, and I’m sure you do as well.”</p><p>“Not a particularly good one, unless avoidance counts. There’s putting a conversation off for a day or two, and then there’s putting one off for...actually, when did you know?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“I didn’t realize until a few weeks ago, the first time we went to the beach. You’re terribly attractive with all your clothes clinging to you, you know. And while we’d danced around each other before then, it finally hit me that I was allowed to <em> want </em> more than a game, that it could <em> mean </em>something. I couldn’t continue fooling myself after that,” he explains.</p><p>“Oh. That is...nice,” Caleb says faintly. Then, even fainter, “Three days, eight hours and seven minutes after you died. Approximately.”</p><p>“...oh.” </p><p>“Ja. At that point everything was in place, and all we had left to do was wait. There wasn’t any reason for Frumpkin to be a spider anymore, and—” He sucks in a deep breath. Exhales. “I had been slightly, ah, preoccupied with the worry that you hadn’t even noticed him, and then I had time to think about why, and. It was a fairly obvious thing in hindsight, wasn’t it?” He laughs, once, a hollow noise.</p><p>This is something Essek hasn’t really thought about, the fact that for everyone else it wasn't as simple as dying and then waking up again. His options are to have an existential crisis over the fact that <em> fuck, </em> he was <em> dead for two weeks, </em> or to lighten the fucking mood somehow. Probably the latter. Essek scoots closer, pokes Caleb between his eyebrows. “It’s a good thing we weren’t <em> done, </em> then.”</p><p>That gets him a little smile from Caleb. Victory. “I’m very glad that you came back,” he murmurs.</p><p>“I’m very glad you brought me back.”</p><p>Caleb doesn’t respond. Sits quietly, but not comfortably, for long enough that Essek feels the need to interrupt whatever is going on in his mind.</p><p>“If you’re trying to determine the best way to talk <em> about </em> something, I’d recommend just saying <em> what </em> it is to get the hard part over with.”</p><p>Caleb hums. “The reason I’d avoided talking about...us. I needed to tell you what I’ve done, first.”</p><p>“I doubt it’s anything as bad as starting a war, or I would’ve heard about it.”</p><p>“Sometimes the small things are worse. You know that I was trained to root out and murder the enemies of the Empire. Torture them, too, but murder was sufficient for many.”</p><p>“I gathered that much from our interactions with other scourgers,” Essek says. Then, because this feels important and he doesn’t want to fuck it up, “You know that whatever it is won’t change how I feel, Caleb.”</p><p>“I know, but I still need to <em> say it. </em> I just don't—I don't know where my explanation should begin. I was the one who thought of this plot, to pretend that your memory had been restored, because that happened to me. And I could not explain the rest without mentioning that, and I did not—” He breaks off, scratching at his wrist absently. “It would be difficult to maintain the illusion, for multiple reasons. So I wanted to wait until you knew the truth once more.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Caleb sighs. "There is more to explain than when I first told Beau and Veth. You don’t even know what I was like back then.” He shakes his head. “Jester still makes jokes about my smell, ja? And you saw what Beau and I looked like when we first arrived.”</p><p>“I'm fairly certain the majority of the court thought it was a fetish thing.”</p><p>“...okay, not the straps. But the rest—that is about what <em> I </em> looked like when I first met the rest of the Nein, more like a filthy beggar than a trained wizard. I was hiding from people who would see through simple illusions. I had done so for five years. Ever since I. Escaped. From the, ah. Asylum?”</p><p>Essek watches as Caleb folds in on himself, becoming smaller without moving a muscle. He reaches out, places his hand on Caleb’s. </p><p>Caleb starts slightly, like he’s already forgotten Essek is there, then clutches the offered hand like a lifeline. “There was a woman there who cleared my head. The false memories, and whatever else. Magic they'd used to sedate me, probably. I'd been there for a very long time, I do not. Remember much from when I was there.” Essek’s grip tightens as he remembers stepping into a perfect ghost of their house, identical down to the last board of wood. “I recall perfectly well how I'd broken, and after that is—” Caleb waves his free hand in the same gesture one would use to cast a dispel. Visibly collects himself for a moment before continuing.</p><p>“I’d been an ideal student, right up until our little graduation test. We were the perfect candidates, my friends and I. We were young, talented, isolated, we had grand expectations to fulfill, we thought we had nothing to lose. We had such <em> resolve, </em> such <em> conviction. </em> And none of the horrible things that I did during my training changed that, none of the horrible things that were done to us. And then I fell apart after the final task.”</p><p>“Caleb...”</p><p>Caleb shakes his head, glaring at their joined hands. “Do you love your parents?”</p><p>“No.” He's never admitted it out loud, but he’s caught off guard—and Caleb looks up sharply, which makes him regret answering so quickly. “I...<em> tried </em> to,” he adds, which does not improve anything.</p><p>“Essek...” </p><p>“I am beginning to realize that this was a deficiency of theirs rather than mine. But...no, I don’t love them. Why?”</p><p>There is a long silence where Caleb opens and shuts his mouth several times without spitting out any words. He looks away, finally. Says, “I. Did.”</p><p>It's just two words. But it's enough for a picture to emerge, bit by bit, as Essek connects disparate threads. Training to be a scourger. His parents, memory modification, a test, the double meaning of the past tense <em> did. </em>Fire. Screams. And everything else after.</p><p>He's always wondered how Caleb could’ve possibly failed his training. It's not a lack of talent. It's not a lack of patriotism. Essek’s best guess was that he'd failed to follow orders adequately. He'd never considered that the Assembly had intentionally pushed him past any reasonable standard of mental endurance just to see what would happen.</p><p>“Can I—would you mind a hug?”</p><p>Caleb's face contorts into a series of expressions that Essek has no chance of following. Pain, disbelief, maybe self-recrimination.</p><p>“It would be a hug from a disloyal traitor, so I cannot guarantee it will be worth much,” Essek adds.</p><p>Caleb gives a little huff that could, very optimistically, be called laughter. Leans into Essek's shoulder. “He made me believe they were planning treason. That's all it took,” he mumbles as Essek wraps his arms around him.</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>“Veth said I was brainwashed but I cannot convince myself she is entirely right. It feels like I was making choices based off of the circumstances laid out before me. I was manipulated, lied to—but I was the one who decided to kill them. I did it.”</p><p>Essek doesn't have anything to say. He just holds Caleb a little tighter. Listens to his breathing even out.</p><p>“But,” Caleb says eventually. “But. While the memory being true or false does not change what I did because of it, I have realized, now, that it does change how I feel. Only a little, but. Enough. I was only able to—heal, I suppose, even just begin to heal—after I knew I had been manipulated into making that choice. So I am sorry, Essek, that we gave you that and then took it away. I cannot fathom how I would cope in your shoes.”</p><p>Essek sighs. “There is something to be said for consent. You did try to warn me, and I didn’t take it to heart. I’m ultimately responsible for the damage.”</p><p>“Still, I am sorry.”</p><p>“You don't need to be, but thank you. Our circumstances are not entirely alike, so please don’t place yourself as the villain in mine.” On impulse Essek places a kiss on Caleb's temple. Caleb freezes up, and Essek winces. “Sorry. I did not—”</p><p>“No, it is fine. I am just...” Caleb sighs and pulls away. Clears his throat, looks Essek in the eye. “I find it hard, still. To let myself have things I want but do not deserve.”</p><p>“Don't be hypocritical,” Essek says firmly. “Either you and I are innately <em> terrible, </em> and we <em> deserve </em> terrible things, or we are people who did terrible things in the past but no longer, and what we deserve is not tied to who we used to be. You do not get to choose one for yourself and another for me.”</p><p>Caleb gives him a long look. Tired, but with a fond smile. “You truly are too clever, you know,” he says at last.</p><p>“Please, give me more compliments. I thrive off of the accolades.”</p><p>“Cheeky,” he says, and leans forward. Rests his forehead against Essek's. Essek is left wide-eyed and unbelieving, his heartbeat picking up, breathing quick and unsteady in the same air as Caleb.</p><p>And Caleb rests his hands on Essek's shoulders, waits. It takes about three or four existential crises before Essek makes a small, embarrassing noise and closes the remaining distance to kiss him. </p><p>He has yet to work out the mechanics of Time Stop, but maybe it goes something like the gentle press of Caleb’s lips against his, the entire world pausing, what feels like eternity passing in the time it takes for his heart to stutter once. In the grand scheme of things, it is a short, chaste kiss. </p><p>But the second one is not.</p><p>The second kiss is deeper, indulgent, and involves a lot more tongue, at least until Caleb shifts closer and they find themselves toppling backwards. Out of sheer reflex Essek tugs on the strings of gravity, softens the fall. There’s a moment where the two of them lie blinking at each other like startled kittens. A pause. And then they are laughing at the absurdity of it all.</p><p>“I love you,” Essek says, once Caleb has pulled him upright. “I know, what a surprise,” he adds at the quirk of Caleb’s mouth. “But it occurred to me yesterday, in the middle of the meeting, that I’d never actually <em> said </em>it, and maybe I would never have a chance to say it.”</p><p>“Mm. Things certainly seemed, ah, <em> dicey </em> before Fjord convinced her.”</p><p>“Oh? Things seemed dicey for the entire conversation from where I was standing.”</p><p>“It was subtle. But as soon as she addressed you after he spoke, I knew we were in the clear.”</p><p>Essek tries to think back, but— “I’m afraid that this is an instance where you’re going to have to explain things, because I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”</p><p>“She called you <em> Essek of no den.” </em></p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Do you know how to say <em> no </em>in Zemnian?”</p><p>Essek does. Laughs. Tries to imagine the Nein fitting into den politics. He can’t, because their mode of operation is absolutely antithetical to how the dens conduct business, but maybe that is the Dynasty’s loss. Maybe if the dens acted as a family the way they supposedly are, Essek wouldn’t be so glad to be rid of them.</p><p>“The Mighty Nein is better than all of them combined,” he says.</p><p>“True. They don’t have you. And they never had anything worth your loyalty.”</p><p>“Flatterer.”</p><p>“Perhaps usually. But in this case, just a statement of fact.”</p><p>Essek knows that he should scoff and say <em> and you’re a liar to boot, </em> knows his own worth and the danger of his own vanity. He knows what he has done. He knows that anyone who can just wave that all away has <em> terrible </em> judgement<em>. </em> </p><p>But instead he looks at Caleb, eyes blue and warm and unwavering, and decides to believe him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is now officially the longest thing I’ve written outside of NaNoWriMo, and it's nearly seven times longer than my next-longest fic. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented or shared this with a friend. It’s been one hell of a ride.<br/>Before you go, I have one recommendation to give you. If you like plot twists within plot twists and stories that are best read twice, I suggest going to the nearest library and picking up <em>The Thief</em> by Megan Whalen Turner. Don’t read any summaries, don’t read the inside cover of the next book in the series. Hell, don’t even read the title of the third book. Just start with book one, read it, probably read it again, and then move on from there. You’re welcome.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="http://www.nonwal.tumblr.com">Come chat with me on Tumblr.</a>
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